Kingdom
by madbeme
Summary: They have battled countless creatures of darkness and light. They have been to hell and back... when Castiel prayed for an ally in the Angel War, the universe sends a most unexpected surprise. Is Dean ready to deal with what he has become? Reviews and Thoughts are always welcome
1. Chapter 1

She walks into the darkness seemingly unafraid of the secrets that the night holds. She walks with purpose and direction undaunted by those following her. A glance cast over her shoulder sends them scattering for cover as she continues on her journey.

Sam feels the cool breeze cast through the room. Castiel immediately turns his gaze from their prisoner. He sniffs the air like a dapple deer which gets the attention of Sam and Dean. Moreover, their prisoner turns white at the smell of the scent in the air. The breeze is sweet. It triggers memories of the scent of lily of the valley for Dean. It is the scent their mother always wore. It brings him peace in a very, very unsettling way.

Castiel immediately secures the bonds of their capture as she suddenly stands before them. She does not speak as the scent grows more intense in the air. Both Dean and Sam are rendered motionless by an unknown force yet they do not feel threaten. The expression on Castiel's face is one of recognition and uncertainty. Their prisoner's expression is one of recognition coupled with pure terror.

Castiel moves away from the prisoner toward the center of the room squaring up to the intruder. Her expression is soft as a gentle smile crosses her face. She extends her hand towards him. Castiel takes her hand into his own. He gently kisses her hand as he assumes a position of reverence in front of her.

The scene unfolding before them astonishes Sam and Dean. There have been few moments of genuine reverence from Cass. She raises him from his position and brings him into an embrace. She kisses Castiel on the cheek following with a brush of her hand on his face. As quickly as she manifested before them, she is gone.

Sam and Dean are instantly release from the invisible bonds that had previously held them. Dean's eyes dart around the room for a clue, for a sign that would explain what the hell just happened. Someone just walked through all of their defenses. Now that is alarming.

Dean runs the vision of the woman through his head. She carried no visible weapon. She did not speak. She had power. She rendered them immobile with no more than what could be a thought. Her presence struck fear in an angel. There was something familiar about her. Something hauntingly familiar.

Sam attempts to speak. "Cass, what in the hell was that?" Castiel looks at both him and Dean with a look of reassurance as he turns his attention back to their prisoner.

As Castiel removes the tape from the angel's mouth he cannot prevent the reveal of their recent guest. "You called Azrael?" The name immediately makes Dean's blood boil. Castiel can see it the change in Dean. "Did she look like a demon?" He glances up at him. "Azrael killed my mother."

"You killed Azazel. The yellow eyed demon was something quite different."

"That was Azrael that stood before you."

Dean squares up to Castiel. "Well, Lucy, you've gots some splaining to do." Sam is also curious as to who that was and why one angel saw a friend while the other cowers in fear.

"In time." There is a distinctive change in Cass that both of them pick up on. Castiel returns his full attention to the Metatron matter at hand.

Crowley sits in the darkness alone in the solace of a moment away from Abaddon. The window is open which allows the scent to fill the room. The scent is all too familiar. The room is filled with the scent of Lilly of the Valley, Peonies and Lilac. The scent brings a smile to his face. She is among them. Someone had summoned her back to this plane. He wonders if it was possibly Dean and Sam but how could they know of Azrael, the true Azrael. In all of the time he has known them, he never had seen them research Azrael. Lucifer's Azazel was one thing. This Azrael is quite another. A change in the wind seems to be on the way. He sits back in the leather chair and waits.

As she had done with Castiel, in a moment she is standing in the center of the room. Unlike Castiel, Crowley bears her no reverence and no fear. He laughs as she turns and winks at him and evaporates in a second.


	2. Reap What You Sow

Azrael walks into an elegant room. The walls are paneled in old oak. The furnishings are of a long ago time and far away places. There is a refinement of a bygone era about the room. Azrael's appearance also drips of old world elegance. The windows bring in the sounds of the French Quarter below. She walks over to the table and fills two crystal glasses with fine cognac. She takes a seat in an old leather chair as she waits for him to arrive.

In a short while, Death enters the room. "NOLA, you are sentimental aren't you." He takes a seat across from Azrael, helping himself to the second glass of cognac. He pulls out a lighter and gently warms the drink. He raises the glass and tips it towards Azrael.

"You have been busy. You look a bit warmed over my dearest." Azrael appears refined and relaxed.

"A thousand years of confinement in Hell will do that."

"Awe, at least it awakened your sense of humor."

"You know they are there." He takes another sip from his glass enjoying the moment.

"Yes, I am aware." Her tone is surprisingly neutral at what Death considers grave news (pardon the pun).

"Have you found it?" Death looks into his glass as if the answer will appear within the amber liquid.

"No, I have not found it. I think he has it."

Azrael's demeanor takes a darker turn as she stands and begins to pace. Death knows that she is not pleased. "I will get it." His attempts at assurance come off as rather lame.

Azrael continues to pace. She looks over Death. "And the Reapers?"

"We have lost a few."

"That is unacceptable." Azrael's mood grows even darker. "And my Horsemen? Have you recovered the rings?" Death does not raise his eyes to meet Azrael's intense gaze.

"The incompetence. You have had those rings since the dawn of time and a couple of mortals take them away." Rather than tell her what she already knows, he chooses silence as a virtue. He sees the glint of Azrael's ring in the glow of the afternoon light. Her ring is pure gold set with four stones. Three match the stones of their rings and the Gold of War's ring, the fourth is her own. The fourth is basically the override. She is the only other divine entity with the power of the Horsemen. Their rings were born from her ring. Few know the true extent of Azrael's power. Death has served her long enough to know to respect Azrael.

Crowley sits in the bar sipping a glass of whiskey as Abaddon walks in. Crowley gives her a snear as she takes a seat next to him.

"Is it true?" She waves to the bartender to pour her drink. Crowley remains staring straight ahead enjoying the moment and Abaddon's tone of concern.

"Yes, love it is true. She's back." The look on Abaddon's face makes Crowley's day. "Now this will be fun. Cheers, Love." He raises his glass and clinks it against Abaddon's much to her dismay.

"She is going to complicate me killing you." Abaddon takes a long drag from her glass. "Who in the hell summoned her?" Crowley has to laugh at the unintended pun. If there is anyone who will complicate both Abaddon's and Metatron's afterlife, it is Azrael and that is a good thing.

Having completed the interrogation, at least for now, the prisoner is returned to their "cell". It is now time to get down the business at hand… the interrogation of Castiel. Unannounced intruders are always unwelcome.

Castiel is strangely energized from the interrogation and the revelation of Azrael's return. Dean circles him in the kitchen. "Cass, is there something you want to tell us?" Dean's voice is particularly gruff from the hours of interrogation. Sam heads to the computer for a little research on his own.

Castiel is oblivious to Dean's inquiry. "Am I speaking Greek?" Castiel turns towards him. "No, I think it's still English." He heads towards the fridge. Dean reaches around him to grab a beer. "Cass, who is the mystery woman and how do you know her?"

Castiel takes out beer and a can of spray cheese. After squirting some of the cheese into his mouth, he answers Dean's persistent question. ""She" is not a mystery woman, a woman or a mystery so I don't understand your question."

Dean takes a long drag off of the bottle before rewinding. "Cass, focus. What the hell happened before."

Cass takes another long drag off of the spray cheese followed by a sip of his own beer. He is really beginning to dig the human trappings. "That was Azrael. I prayed and Azrael came. That is all we need."

Sam has been diligently plugging away at the computer. Dean walks over and gazes over his shoulder. "So have you found anything Scooby?"

"Well Shaggy. I am not sure what I found but it's interesting."


	3. Blinded by the Light

Sam and Dean's faces are cast in the glow of the computer screen as they read about the legends surrounding Azrael. What they read is incomplete and does not make sense with what they have witnessed. They need more information and unfortunately, Dean knows that the best source of information just may be the King of Hell himself. It is time to consult the oracle of Crowley. With the moves they want to make against Metatron, it is best to know every player on the field.

The morning sun has Dean and Sam in the Impala bound for the King of Hell. Crowley is where they asked to meet them. He is in the library. The library has an ornate room filled with ancient texts that makes Crowley feel oddly at home. The marble and wood, the books and the mold remind him of his youth. He is seated in the alcove of an ornate window as he waits for the brothers Winchester.

Dean is the first to broach the subject. "Who is Azrael?" Crowley thinks to himself. If they are asking him, they don't know and did not summon Azrael. That information certainly narrows the field. "Azrael, you have met Azrael?" Dean takes a slightly more aggressive stance. "Is Azrael under your dominion?" Crowley audibly laughs at their ignorance and the thought of what he could do if that were even a remote possibility.

"Azrael serves only one master. She is under no one's dominion."

"Is she an angel or a demon?"

Crowley can see the building intensity in Sam. The brothers crave this information for a purpose. He just needs to find out what that purpose is. "Azrael lacks a classification. Which if you read the legends of Azrael, you already know."

Dean gets even more aggressive. He knows there is a fine line. They need this information and Crowley is quite obviously playing with them.

"Azrael has dominion over Death. She is the keeper of souls. She is the light."

Dean takes in the information. "The light as in the light… the light that people see when they die… I thought that was the reapers."

"Azrael is far more complicated than that but yes."

"Is she good or evil?" Sam's thoughts audibly manifest.

"She is both and she is neither. She has dominion over Death… over the Horsemen… over Purgatory…. Stuff like that."

Crowley gazes out the window as if the knowledge he is providing is of common nature. Sam and Dean survey each other closely wondering if they dare inquire in more detail or if they should save it and go back to Castiel.

Crowley does not want to tip his hat as to how much he knows about Azrael. He knows exactly what he is dealing with. It may be to his benefit to keep the Winchesters on the fringe. He learned of Azrael from Lucifer himself. He knows the story of the brothers… and of the balance. The Winchesters quite obviously do not… and Crowley is not sure if Castiel would have been in the legions of angels that would have fallen under Azrael's command. For this moment, he will hold his tongue. If there is to be balance restored against Metatron, Azrael serves as that balance. Metatron controls life just as Azrael controls death. Someone or something has caused Azrael to appear and that is information that he needs. Azrael may be the solution to his own problem.

The brothers part company with Crowley. The irony of the return trip is the radio blaring "Blinded by the Light" upon the turn of the key in the ignition. Dean has always appreciated irony.


	4. My Brother's Keeper

Dean and Sam are headed home to Castiel to gather more information about the new player. A familiar scent fills the car as Dean glances up into the review mirror. Dean, startled by the sight, slams on the brakes tossing Sam into the dash.

Azrael does not speak as Dean regains control of the car and pulls it over. Both whip around in the seat giving their full attention to the unexpected guest.

"Seems you are a pair of Georges." In the light, this is their first look at the mysterious stranger. Azrael's voice is light and very feminine. She is dressed to fit the situation in jeans and a jacket quite similar to Dean's. Her hair is very short with a streak of purple within it. The scent is calming. She has a very strange effect on them.

"A pair of Georges?" Sam dares to speak to her. She smiles putting Dean oddly at ease. She is so familiar but he cannot place her and doesn't know enough about her.

"Curious little creatures you are." Neither of the brothers knows what to do. She obviously is aware of their inquiries.

"Why are you here?" Dean follows his brother's lead.

"I have business to conduct, gentlemen." There is elegance to her words and in the way she speaks. She motions them both to lean forward. She leans forward and gently kisses each of them on the cheek shocking both of them and rendering them speechless. In a glance toward each other, she is gone with the scent of Lilly of the Valley fading away within the car.

"What is the hell was that about?" Dean's thoughts escape his head through is mouth.

Sam is just as confused. They look back at each other. "Castiel".

They can see her standing in the darkness just beyond their reach. Michael and Lucifer are transfixed on person in front of them.

"Azrael? Is that you?" Michael's voice is clear. He knew she would come.

"Seems you have been playing with my toys, Lucy." She shakes her head as she approaches them.

"Set us free." Lucifer's tone is that of a command.

"Azrael, please." Michael's tone is not that of a plea but of a request.

"In time, in time and Lucy." She pauses for a moment turning her attention back to them. "Play in your own sandbox, dear brother." Azrael disappears into the infinite darkness.

Dean and Sam burst through the door startling Castiel. "Azrael. Spill it now." Dean's voice is roaring from his mouth. "We know she has dominion over Death, the Horsemen… all of that... why… who is she?"

Castiel absorbs Dean's words. "Been talking to Crowley I see." Castiel is now composed. He knew that the pair would not rest until they had some information about Azrael.

"It's complicated." Castiel begins to pace the room. He doesn't know how to make them understand what role Azrael plays… She is Seven. She is the light. She is the great equalizer. It's complicated. He isn't sure he even understands Azrael and he once worked for her.

"Complicated… complicated… the Apocalypse is complicated… this is beyond complicated." Dean is suddenly distracted by the ring of his cell phone. He takes the call and walks outside. "This gonna have to wait. We have to go to Chicago." He grabs Sam's shoulder. "This ain't over Cass. This ain't over."

Azrael walks out of the shadows. She has the rings in her pocket. She stands in the middle of the road immediately after the Impala passes her. She is surrounded by white light which envelopes her head to foot. She throws her arms to the sides with a single word. "COME!"

The rings leave her hand and return to their owners. War is driving his Mustang towards Chicago as the ring appears on his finger. Pestilence and Famine also see their rings return. Death is walking with his cane down a deserted street as his ring returns. He looks down at it with a smile.


	5. Come With Me Now

War is enjoying his time in Chicago. He is in the club at a private table sipping on a fine glass of Scotch taking the seedy netherworld of the city. He knew to expect her after the ring reappeared. Azrael strolls through the door. She walks to his table. As she stands before him, War stands and pulls out the chair for Azrael. He waves to the waiter for another glass.

"So what brings you to Shytown my dear Azrael." The waiter places the crystal glass in front of Azrael. War raises his glass towards Azrael. "May we get what we want. May we get what we need." Azrael finishes the toast. "But never what we deserve." She clinks her glass against his with a smirk.

As they talk, a fights out capturing their attention for a moment. "So does Metatron have it?"

"Yes." War watches the events of the evening unfolding.

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"It's time to get the band back together." She downs the last of her drink exchanging a knowing look that causes War to visibly laugh.

Azrael shakes her finger at War. "Now, I know what you are up to. Behave yourself." She winks at him gets up and walks into oblivion. War laughs again. "Always."

Azrael walks out of the club as her vintage Corvette is pulled up by the valet. She tips the valet and drives off into the night.

As she drives she calls out to him. "Castiel." Castiel appears next to her in the seat as "Come with Me Now" blares from the speakers of the car.

"What is with you guys and muscle cars?" He taps his fingers along with the music. "Look at the curves on this baby… most men would say it was like a fine woman." She casts a knowing look at him.

"I can explain and how do you know about that?"

Azrael laughs as how she knows sinks in with Castiel. "Oh… right."

"Come on Cassy lighten up. So where are those Winchester boys, I need a word with them."

They drive for some time before coming upon the Impala parked in front of a less than opulent bar.

Azrael's clothes transform as she exits the car. Gone are the clothes of an evening on the town, replaced with a black turtleneck, jacket, jeans and Doc Martens. Castiel remains as he always is in his trenchcoat.

Dean and Sam are at the bar sipping on their beers as their attention is drawn to the entrance of Castiel and Azrael. Azrael looks natural though Castiel is just… well Castiel. Azrael takes a seat next to Dean. "Come here often." Dean gives Azrael a smirk.

The bartender stops in front of Azrael. Azrael looks at the offerings. "Beam, straight up with a splash."

The drink order surprises both Sam and Dean. Azrael is a natural mixing among the mortals. Castiel takes the seat next to Sam. After a short while Castiel and Sam head to play a game of pool. Sam is hoping Dean will get more information out of Azrael.

"You seem like a natural." Dean poses the question to Azrael.

She takes a sip from her drink before she answers. "How so?"

"Well, you are not awkward like Castiel. You kind of have a knack for this mortal thing."

His phrasing makes Azrael smile. "Well." She looks over at Castiel. "Quite frankly, no one is as awkward as Cass. Honestly, he makes Dr. Sheldon Cooper look like freaking Rico Suave." Her answer makes Dean choke on his sip of beer.

"Can I ask you something."

"Sure, George."

"My name is…" Dean looks to see her smile and remembers the joke of the Georges. "Right." He takes another sip of his beer. "What do you want with me and my brother?"

Azrael is surprised at the directness of his question. "You and your brother perplex me."

"How so?"

"Well as you and your brother have both died say half a dozen times each… and yet you have never been on my list." Azrael waves down the bartender for another round.

"Your list?"

"The list. No one dies until their name is on the list and you and Sam have never been on my list."

"You are death… "

"Yes, but I don't make the decision on who dies. That my dear Dean is above my pay grade and that vexes me."

Dean absorbs her words. He understands but yet he does not understand and that vexes him. He knows there is a great deal that Azrael is not telling him. This is much bigger than her just wondering how they have died so many times but he is curious as to that as well.

"You were never destined to Hell, Dean, you know that right." Azrael catches him off guard. He glances away from his beer and directly into Azrael's eyes. Dean realizes from her tone and her words that it was Azrael who ordered Cass to retrieve him from hell.

"That was you."

"You were never supposed to be there." Azrael surprises him again by gently touching his shoulder as she stands and walks towards Sam and Castiel. There is something about the touch. The touch soothes him.


	6. The Piper

Dean watches Azrael join Sam and Cass at the pool table. He takes a moment to himself. Castiel may have healed the wound but the memories are still fresh.

As the night of pool winds down, the four some walk out of the bar together. Dean is shocked at the classic Corvette that Azrael walks up to. He runs his hand down the hood as he walks to the Impala. Dean opens the door for Azrael. "This is nice, where are you off to?"

Azrael gives him a smile. "Places to go and people to see Mr. Winchester. Don't wait up." She gives him a wink as he shuts the door. Sam and Castiel are leaning against the Impala waiting for Dean to unlock it. "I know where she is going." Castiel offers as they watch her pull away.

Azrael drives through the night pulling up to a breathtaking cathedral in the first rays of morning. She walks into the grandeur of the space with an appreciation of man's reverence in the creation of such a space. The early morning sunlight casts the room with a thousand colors. She pauses for a moment to light a candle before walking to the center of the room. Before her waits a familiar and expected face.

Metatron chose the meeting place with great care. He knows that Azrael is not so far gone as to desecrate a house of their father.

"Azrael."

"Metatron." Each stops short of each other like gun fighters out of a spaghetti western.

"You asked and I am here. What do you want M?"

"Azrael, have you seen him?" Azrael looks over the room with great care. She knows that she has nothing to fear from Metatron. He does not possess the power to harm her just as she does not possess the power to harm him. They could battle for a thousand years and it would always be a stalemate.

"No. I have not . Have you?

"No." Metatron is quite obviously concerned as he begins to pace in front of her. "Do you know where he is?"

"No, M. I do not. Do you know why I am here?" Azrael takes a seat in one of the pews.

"I have something of yours." Metatron takes a few steps away from Azrael as she leans forward in one of the pews. "I see you returned the rings to your Horsemen."

"I have. It is where they belong. Hence, it is why they are called the rings of the Four Horsemen. I am merely returning order to my house."

"I see you have also managed to abbreviate Revelations."

"Get with the times M. You can be a bit wordy. LOL." Metatron sighs at his younger sibling.

"Feel free to return my books, at any time dear brother."

"You can't have them, Azrael. You have too much power. I had to take them."

"M, do you know what have you done?" Metatron knows exactly what he has done. He had to do it.

"You might be the word of God but the Book of the Dead and the Book of Life are under my purview."

"Azrael. You know what you have to do."

"Metatron, you sealed off heaven… you sealed off hell… purgatory is in shambles. The work will be done with or without the paperwork though you and your minions have presented me with a significant storage issue."

"How can you."

Azrael looks over her brother. "The universe doesn't stop because you want to get off… or rule it. I am merely adapting principles to circumstances." She gets up and walks towards him. Azrael is done with this conversation, at least for now. She does what few will do, she turns her back to him and walks away.

"You quote General Patton to me?"

"I'm Death… What can I say… You never know who you'll meet." She walks out of the doors of the cathedral into a ring of oil. She looks at those in front of her with a glance back at Metatron.

She blows it out with a breeze. "Really?" The minions divide like the sea in her presence. Unbeknownst to Azrael, the scene being watched by Sam, Castiel and Dean as she gets into the Corvette and drives away.

Sam and Dean are quite uneasy in the presence of so many angels. For the life of them, they cannot figure out how they can be this close to so many of them and remain undetected. After they are in the car, Dean forms the question in his head. Before the words even leave his lips, Castiel tells them why.

"She kissed you. She kissed both of you and she kissed me that is why." Dean remembers the kiss to the cheek when she appeared in unexpectedly in the car.

"The kiss of death is protection when you are not on the list." Castiel had forgotten just how clever Azrael was. "It doesn't last long but it works as passage. We'd better get out of here."


	7. Unbelievers

The day has taken its toll on the brothers and they are quite tired. Dean pulls over into motel a bit off the highway so that they can rest. They get a room. Dean settles into a bed and into a deep slumber. Castiel is also tired. The borrowed grace wearing on him. Sam is restless but also eventually gives into a nap. The three are scattered about the room.

Azrael listens from the room next door. Once she hears that they are settled in she too lies on the bed. She does not need sleep. She does not dream. She watches the dreams of those in the next room in her mind's eye. She brings them peaceful rest without the trio being aware of it. As she lies in the silence, the TV turns on in her room. Azrael hears an all too familiar voice echo from the TV.

She doesn't not even sit up to look at the TV as she calls out the source. "Really, you have resorted to porn?" She remains face down on the pillow as a figure manifests at the foot of the bed. The figure is of someone has has missed a great deal. She has missed all of them. The chaos of this new age is destroying them... destroying all of them.

"Give the people what they want." Azrael is whacked on her bottom by Gabriel. Azrael mumbles to him. "The vessel needs sleep."

Gabriel lies next to her on the bed. "Don't give me that vessel crap. We both know you are the only one of us who has walked among them enough to not need a vessel, love. You are just trying to ignore me." Damn Archangels, Azrael thinks to herself.

"Will it work." Gabriel does not know how happy Azrael is to see him. She knew his death was a ruse but then again it is hard to tell what is a ruse and what is not at this moment in time but her books do not lie.

"Nope." Gabriel pokes her in the side. Azrael turns her head and takes in the sight of yet another of her older brothers. As a group, they are truly putting the fun in dysfunctional.

"I see you have chosen to keep them close." He motions towards the wall.

"Yes… for a number of reasons." Azrael knows Gabriel is fishing for her thoughts. Fishing for information as to what she is going to do. She is not ready to reveal. After all, it is impossible to reveal what you don't actually know.

"Have you seen them." Gabriel's reference is regarding quite a different set of siblings. His voice takes on a serious tone that Azrael has not heard from this Trickster for centuries.

"Yes, they are together. You know Lucy thinks he killed you." This time Azrael casts a line. She knew her brothers were battling. She never thought it would ever escalate to this level of wickedness.

"Yes." Gabriel's tone maintains the edge.

"You know there is going to be hell to pay when he finds out." Azrael attempts to lighten this dark discussion with humor.

"Ba Da Bum." Gabriel taps Azrael on the leg. "He doesn't have to find out." Gabriel rolls onto his side to make eye contact with his youngest sibling.

"Really how do you suppose to do that?" Azrael knows the answer but is quite willing to play along with this little game as a distraction to her own dark thoughts.

"You can resurrect me."

"You want me to lie to the Devil and fake a resurrection?" Azrael sighs at Gabriel. "Believe it or not resurrection is not the universal answer to every problem.

"You have done worse for better."

"I'll think about it."

"You'd better get moving your charges are stirring." As quickly as Gabriel appeared, he is gone. Azrael listens for a moment taking in the sounds next door. She knows Dean is still in a brief moment of peace. Sam is beginning to stir. The angel she needs a word with is up and about. Azrael runs her fingers through her hair and heads outside.

She stops and stares at the front of her ride. A "God is my co-pilot" license plate has appeared on the front of it. Looking towards the sky she mumbles. "You are truly twisted my brother, truly twisted." She shakes her head and takes up a position leaning against the hood of the Impala.

Castiel can feel her presence. He walks outside before Dean and Sam stir from their slumber.

"Azrael, may I speak freely." He takes up a position next to her. "Of course."

"I am troubled by your visit to Metatron." She can hear it in his voice. She knows the angels have come to Cass searching for guidance. They were searching for a leader. She needs him to be that leader.

"I know you are Cass. Trust that I know what to do… I just don't not yet know how to do it." Cass looks at Azrael with confusion. He knows she is withholding information. It is not his place to question Azrael. Azrael would love to share her plans. That is, if she actually knew what her plan was to be.

"Do you trust in me Castiel." Castiel looks at her intensely as if the answer will manifest on her forehead. "Yes, Azrael. I trust in you."

"Then I need for you to do something for me." Castiel can hear the intensity in her voice. "Anything." It is not his place to question the hierarchy.

"I need for you to lead them." Azrael is standing squarely in front of him. She tips his chin so that he looks into her eyes. Castiel attempts to speak but is silenced by Azrael's finger on his lips. "In a time of universal deceit - the truth is a revolutionary act, Casteil."

The door behind Azrael opens as she leans down and kisses Castiel on the cheek and touches his face. He can feel it in her touch. He feels the warmth run through him. She has returned his grace to him. "Trust no one except those you already do." Azrael turns towards Dean and Sam who are now standing behind her. She takes in the messy hair and sleepy eyes of the pair. Mortals are curious creatures.

"Sleep well, Darlings?" She kisses both of them on the cheek as she pulls out her keys. She lingers in front of Dean for a moment. She knows her aura brings him calm and she needs him calm. Dean breathes in the now familiar scent that signals Azrael's presence. She gives them all a wink as she opens the door of the car. She gets in and starts the engine. As she backs the car out of the driveway, another car is waiting for Azrael. The car is familiar, it is a bright red Mustang. The chariot of War. Castiel knows there is nothing to fear for Azrael but it still makes him uneasy.


	8. A Cold Cold Place to Be

Castiel watches Azrael's car drive off into the distance. His renewed grace is pumping through the vessel radiating the light from within. She renewed him. She resurrected his true soul and returned it to him. It is a gift that he could never repay. It is a debt that he owes her. He will have to seek out the legions of angels.

Dean and Sam both sense a change in Castiel. "What happened between you and the Wizard of Az?" The abbreviation of her name is amusing. Dean's voice is still rough from his slumber.

"She restored me." Sam finds Castiel's choice of words a bit strange. "Restored?" Castiel is still distracted. "Yes, restored me in the way that only Azrael is capable of. I am going to have to take my leave of you for a while."

Dean is wondering what happened between the two of them before he and Sam opened the door. They say their goodbye to Castiel. As they drive off, Dean gets a call on his cell phone. Crowley is calling in his chit. The time has come to deal with Abaddon. This time the destination is Cleveland, with a stop along the way.

Abaddon has an unexpected surprise for the King of Hell… she has found his son. Abaddon brings his son to him as leverage in their wicked little game.

Azrael is in her library with her Horsemen. Something has triggered her attention. In her carefully curated filing system, she finds a book out of place. There is never a book out of place. It is an old volume which has yellowed with age. She gently picks it up and flips through some of the pages. War sees the change in her expression. "What is it Azrael."

She holds the volume to her forehead. Her mind goes to the book of Life. She mentally scans a particular page with a fading name. Her expression grows darker by the moment. She knows exactly who this is and it is time to pay a visit.

"There is something that I have to take care of. I will be back soon." She vanishes before them.

Abaddon has made her move and Crowley is none too pleased. He is not the fathering type. He never was. He has barely any humanity left within him and she dare play this particular card. They dance their twisted little tango as Dean and Sam uphold their end of the bargain. They retrieve the first blade and are rocketing through the highways of Ohio to pay retribution to Abaddon.

Crowley has alerted Dean to the mousetrap that awaits them. Dean can feel the power within him. He feels the calm of the assassin wash over his being as he holds the blade in his hand. The mark of Cain upon his arm blazes with the fire of bloodlust. He is ready for Abaddon.

To protect Sam from the trap that Abaddon has set, he sends him in through the basement. He will handle this alone. He has to handle this alone. The battle with Abaddon ensues. She tests his will and his lust for the kill. She presses him in battle again and again. With each strike he grows calmer and stronger. He breaks free and plunges the blade through her again and again. He can feel the warmth of the blood on his face. He can also hear Sam's pleas to stop.

As he reaches to plunge the blade into her again, his hand is stopped. He grabs the arm restraining him to see that it is Azrael. "She is dead, Dean."

Her voice is calm, the scent of her soothes him instantly. He relents dropping the blade to the floor.

Sam cannot take his eyes off of Dean. He is horrified by the sight of him. There is demon blood streaked across his face from his stabbing frenzy. There was a fury to him that Sam had never seen. It was a bloodlust. It was pure bloodlust. Sam cannot help but wonder if this was still the damage. The damage caused by time spent in Hell.

Azrael leans down towards Crowley as Dean and Sam talk for a moment. "You and I have a matter to discuss."

Crowley knows exactly why Azrael is here. His son was dead. Abaddon did a backdoor resurrection on him to use him as a bargaining chip. That would have garnered Azrael's immediate attention.

Azrael walks to the bathroom of the penthouse and retrieves a towel for Dean to wipe the blood from his face. She looks at both of them and the mutilated vessel on the ground between them. She looks over at Crowley who is still nursing the wound inflicted by Abaddon. Duty is calling and she knows it.

"Azrael, would you be a dear and…" Azrael rolls her eyes at him. She has work to do to match this vessel with the soul that Abaddon corrupted. As she had told Metatron, people don't stop dying just because they decide to play God. She wants her books back.

In an instant, Azrael is gone along with the body and the blood. Even the blood on the blade is gone. Crowley is grateful for the distraction that the vessel presented for Azrael. The distraction of Abaddon buys him time to decide what he wants to do with Gavin.

Dean and Sam finish their business with Crowley. The debt to Crowley has been paid. The ride back to the bunker is tense. Sam and Dean argue about the blade. They argue about everything surrounding today including where to stop for dinner. Sam is worried about Dean. He is more than worried. He is beginning to wonder if Dean is on the slippery slope that will provide a return engagement in Hell.

After they return to the bunker, Sam gives Dean some space or rather he takes some space from Dean. He needs to clear his thoughts. Dean heads to his room for a moment. His thoughts are colliding in his brain. He needs clarity and… a shower.

He stands under the water allowing it to gently bump the thoughts from his mind. The warm water provides a bit of momentary solace. Why can't he make Sam understand him? He stands beneath the stream until it runs cold. He reaches out from the curtain for the towel. He is startled by a presence in the room with him.

"Guess, you didn't have to sell your soul like Crowley." Dean practically jumps out of his skin when he sees Azarel leaning against the wall. She gives him a wicked little wink.  
Dean scrambles to wrap himself in the towel. "Damn it woman, have you no decorum."

"Wow didn't know you knew words with that many syllables." Azrael teases. "Relax, nothing I haven't seen before. Trust me you don't know how many… well never mind."

"Why are you here?" Dean has regained his composure and bravado.

"There is something I need to know."

Dean looks her over closely. There is a look of mild concern on Azrael's face. "What could you possibly need that can't wait 'til I have pants on?"

Dean leads her out to the bedroom. He promptly drops his towel to dress as Azrael tosses him his jeans. Once he is dressed, Azrael approaches him. He watches her as she stands close and places her hand on his heart. He almost forgot that he was not dealing with a woman. He is dealing with whatever the hell Azrael is. He takes in the scent of Lilly of the Valley mixed with the scent of the soap he was using. He can feel the warmth of her hand on his skin, the softness of her touch. He loses himself in the moment placing his hand over hers. It has been a long time since he felt this way. Felt the touch of a woman that was not simply satisfying a "need". He pulls her in closer wrapping his free arm around her.

Azrael knows the longing within him. This does not have to be real. It is what he needs at this moment to calm him, to calm the rage within him. She knows he has suffered. She wants reconcile the violence in his heart and cast the demons from his soul but she must wait. She needs him as he is right now. If this is what he needs for temporary peace then she will provide him comfort.

Dean can feel her arms wrap around him. He places his head on top of hers. He stands there for a long while locked in her embrace. He can hear Sam approaching. Azrael leans up to kiss him on the cheek. Dean pulls her into a deep kiss. As he releases her she asks. "What was that for?"

"That was for me." He looks into her eyes for a moment before Sam opens the door and Azrael evaporates.

"Who were you talking to?" Sam enters the room.

"No one. It was the TV." Dean pulls on his shirt as Sam notices that the TV is off.


	9. Through the Fire and the Flames

Azrael stands in the middle of her library. The hall is infinite and grand. There are books as far as the eye can see. She stands in the middle of the ornate marble floor tiled with an ornate compass rose. Her expression is very dark and brooding as she holds Gavin's book between her hands. She watches volumes fly from the shelves landing at her feet. With every word, with every movement, Gavin is unraveling time. This is the last thing she needs at this moment. Leave it to Crowley to create this level of chaos, as hard as it is to believe, out of love for his son.

Azrael knows she has no choice she has to make this right. She has to restore order and at this point she is now preparing to fight a war on two fronts.

Sam knows that they have to find Gavin. The question is where to begin to look for him. Crowley has the power to have released him anywhere but where he should be. Sam's gut tells him that Crowley released him in the here and now but they need talk to Cass. Cass will know how these things work. He waits downstairs for Dean to finish dressing.

They arrive at Castiel's headquarters finding it in full operation. Castiel knows there is a mole in among his legions. He must fine the traitor in his midst. Sam and Dean tell Castiel the story of Gavin and Abaddon. Castiel knows Azrael will have to intervene. The fact that Crowley's son is the rouge spirit makes this interesting.

Castiel tells the brothers about what sets this rogue spirit apart. "Dean, Sam." Castiel is pacing in front of them obviously lost in deep thought. "Abaddon put a wrinkle in time by bringing Gavin back. Crowley gave him power by acknowledging him as his son. He is the King of Hell. His power is absolute. Gavin has the power of the Prince of Darkness." Castiel is hoping beyond hope that Gavin does not yet know exactly how much power Crowley bestowed upon him. "Have you talked to Azrael about this?"

Sam looks at Dean for a moment. His gut is telling him that Azrael was exactly who Dean was talking to in his room. He looks at Dean as he asks. "Did we?" Dean can hear the doubt in his voice. "No. We didn't."

"Azrael will know. She would have seen the book out of place in the library." Castiel is still pacing around them. "Library?" Sam is intrigued by Castiel's answer.

"Her library. She has a book on every life, everyone who has ever lived." Castiel picked up on the edge in Sam's voice but this matter is more troubling than a squabble between siblings. "You are going to need a Time Lord."

Sam is stunned by that answer. "Time Lord? Isn't that from Dr. Who?" Castiel looks up at him with his typical deadpan expression. "Where do you think they got the idea? Honestly, all has been said and done. There is nothing new under the sun, Sam."

Sam cannot control the sarcasm in his tone. "So are we looking for a bright blue police box to pop up?" Dean has been quietly taking all of this in. He too is curious about this library of Azreal's. However, this Time Lord stuff seems hard to believe and they have seen some weird ass stuff in this line of work.

Castiel gives him a look that makes his blood run cold. "Believe me, you would wish it was as easy as finding a TARDIS. Time Lords are tricky creatures. Azrael will know how to find one."

"So then Azrael will handle this?" After his long bout of silence, Dean enters the conversation. Castiel's expression puzzles him. "She is going to need your help."

Dean is shocked by the statement. From what he has seen of Azrael, she seems more than capable. Why would she need them? She is like some kind of archangel. What would she need them for?

Dean's thoughts are written on his ever changing expression. Castiel seems to be able to read his mind.  
"Make no mistake, Azrael wields incredible power but there are some things that she cannot do." Castiel pauses. He does not know if this is information that he should reveal if Azrael has not shared it with them yet.

"Cass, what can she do or not do?" Dean is now vested in finding out once and for all who Azrael is.

Castiel sits in his chair pyramiding his fingers in front of his lips as he sorts his thoughts for a way to explain. Dean grows impatient at the delay in response from Castiel.

"Cass." There is a sharpness Dean's delivery of his name that momentarily catches him off guard.

"Azrael has no enemies because she cannot be killed."

"That makes sense… you said she was Death… being able to kill death would be…"

"Redundant." Dean adds the word Sam was searching for.

"There has to be balance in all things, Sam. She cannot be killed but in return…."

"She cannot kill." Dean finishes Castiel's sentence. Thoughts in his head are falling into place.

"I have no ability to take a life." Azrael's voice is clear and startles the brothers.  
"Son of a bitch, will you quit doing that… knock or something." Dean scolds Azrael though he had smelled the scent of her presence before she manifested.

"But you are Death? You take lives all the time."

"I take the soul. I don't kill the vessel. Death doesn't work that way."

Azrael walks over and takes up a position next to Castiel. "You want to know how I control the Horsemen since I cannot use mortality as a weapon."

That is exactly what is on Dean's mind. Sam is intrigued at the effect that Azrael has on Dean.

"How do you think I do it?" Dean scavenges his thoughts. "Fear." Sam offers an answer to the annoyance of Dean.

"In a way." Azrael is unsure if she wants this reveal but the situation seems a bit far gone and she needs Dean.

"What would be War's greatest fear?"

Without hesitation, Dean responds. "Peace."

"Famine?"

"Abundance." Sam is on to the game.

"Pestilence… Vitality… and Death?"

"Life… resurrection."

Azrael is impressed with the brothers. They understand, at least to a degree.

"You play on your enemies greatest fears. It is all manipulation." There is an edge to Sam's tone that disturbs Dean.

"True, it is manipulation but it is not all about fear… and the Horsemen are not my enemies. They are my treasured companions."

Castiel intervenes. "She also knows your heart's desire." Azrael did not wish to have this little nugget of information revealed but so be it. There is work to be done.


	10. Gasoline

Azrael can sense the anger that Sam fosters for her. She cannot pinpoint the specifics. He does not trust her. Then again, who the hell trusts in the certainty of death. She is used to being the source of fear for mortals. It is natural for mortals to fear death. These two have experienced it. They have each experienced it multiple times.

Sam watches Azrael's every move. He is uncomfortable in her presence. There is something about her. There is something that he cannot figure out about her. The kisses, as Cass had told them, protect them for short periods of time. They act as passage. He learned from his research, that the mark of Azrael offers protection in that their name cannot be removed from the book of life while the passage is in effect. Why is she keeping them so close?

Castiel and Azrael speak for a moment in hushed tones away from the ears of Dean and Sam. Castiel tells her of his encounter with the Gadreel. Azrael is very concerned with the encounter. She needs Castiel protected while she deals with the complications of Crowley. She can sense something amiss but does not yet know exactly what or who it is. Her spidey senses only work so well when they are multitasking on a rather grandiose scale.

Sam and Dean watch Castiel again drop to single knee in reverence to Azrael. He takes her hand into his own and kisses it. It is reminiscent of a knight bowing before a queen. Azrael again raises him up and embraces him. There is obviously history between Azrael and Castiel. Sam and Dean exchange knowing looks between them. They need to know what this history is.

Dean is running the information that he knows about Azrael through his head. He is trying to make sense of it. He is trying to make sense of what he feels. Her scent calms him like nothing else he has ever experienced. It tames the rage within him. He can't help but wonder if it is a revelation of the peace of found in death. He has died several times and found anything but peace.

During their private conversation, Castiel tells Azrael that she should allow Sam and Dean access into her inner sanctum. Azrael is taken aback by the thought of mortals in her library. Castiel insists that this would be a wise move and that the Winchesters can be trusted. Azrael knows the content of Castiel's soul from his grace. He speaks truth to her. He speaks what he believes. In so many ways, Castiel reminds her of Michael. Azrael is trying to fathom how their "world" came to this. The anarchy, the utter chaos, their world should have never devolved into this… she wonders where their father could be. Why would he do this to them. She knows the thoughts are futile at best and quickly dismisses them from her mind.

Azrael stands before both Sam and Dean with a glance back to Castiel. With a quick move of her hand she renders Sam unconscious. Dean immediately grabs her arm. "He is sleeping." Azrael breaks Dean's grip and touches him on the forehead rendering him unconscious as well. Dean falls face first to the floor.

"I should have thought that through a little more. That is going to leave a mark." She touches his cheek.

"Honestly, they could use the rest. Take care of them Azrael." Castiel's concern is genuine.

"As if they were my very own, Cass. I promise." Castiel gives her a smile as she dissipates with the brothers.

Azrael enters the room where she has placed Sam and Dean. They are each laid out on four post bed made of carved wood. They are wrapped in blankets of silk and fine linens. The room has a fireplace providing warmth and comfort. They sleep in absolute serenity. Azrael approaches Sam. She gently places her hand on his forehead. She watches in on his dreams. She wants to make sure that he is at peace and truly resting. Sam is lost in dreams of a woman who Azrael cannot readily identify and with what they are doing… she really doesn't want to know at the moment.

She walks over to Dean and places her hand on his forehead. She watches in on his dreams. He is dreaming of his life with Lisa. The comfort of the life he had when he believed Sam was lost in the cage. She gently takes away the guilt that Dean had felt during that period of time. His expression softens as she takes it away. She brushes his cheek as he snuggles beneath the blanket.

Azrael closes a heavy door behind her as she walks into the room where her Horsemen are gathered. She pauses a moment in the doorway as she watches them. They are gathered around a large wooden table drinking and playing cards. She takes in the smell of War's cigar and Famine's pipe. She listens to them talk of the good old days of the middle ages and the last days of Caligula.

She takes a seat in the back of the room and watches them for quite a while before they notice her presence. "You want in Az?" War tips the cards at her. Azrael draws closer to the table. "and relieve you of the prize? We can't have that. Have fun boys, I have some work to do." The four tip their fingers to their foreheads as Azrael heads into her library. Time to see where or when newly dubbed Prince of Darkness is lurking and how much damage control is going to be needed.


	11. Boondock Saints

Dean is the first to wake. The room has the faint smell of wood smoke. He can hear the gentle crackle of the fire. It brings a mix of memories to the surface. He is warm under the blankets as he begins to stir. He does not recognize the room yet he is not anxious which is a very strange feeling indeed. He rubs his eyes to focus. The room is pitch black with the exception of the fireplace. He leans up on his elbow to see Sam resting in another bed across the room.

The room is dark but looks to be made of stone. The furnishings are substantial. Heavy four post beds. Large dressers of made of dark wood with brass hardware that glitter in the low light. The floor as a worn Persian rug strew across it. If he had to guess the interior looked as if it were out of a castle.

He lies back taking in a moment of tranquility. The smell of the wood smoke is now intermixed with a familiar scent.

"Did you sleep well?" Azrael emerges from the firelight taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She touches his arm where the mark of Cain appears. He is conscious that her touch is with purpose. The touch is soothing and welcome. It seems to ease the burden. Though, he is curious as to why his face aches like he had been in fight. He doesn't remember a fight.

"Yes, but I have a wicked headache." He rubs his face again to survey why it hurts.

"My bad, you kind of landed on your… well your face." Azrael places her hands on his face taking the pain away as her fingers pass over his skin.

"Landed on it?" He gives her a coy look.

"A miscalculation on my part and gravity is a wicked little bitch."

Sam begins to stir at the sound of conversation. He rubs his eyes in disbelief primarily because he is actually sleeping in a bed without a gun beneath the pillow. He would say it was the sleep of the dead if it wasn't in such ironic yet poor taste.

He can hear Azrael and Dean speaking as he raises himself up on his elbow to survey the room and his companions.  
"Hey there sleepy head." Dean acknowledges his brother.

"Where are we?" Sam verbalizes the question that is on both their minds.  
"You are in my library. Sorry for the need for unusual travel arrangements but I don't normally allow mortals in my lair…living ones at least. Come, you must be hungry."

Both of them realize that they are actually starving. Azrael leads them into another room. This room is also grand and made of stone. In the center is a huge table with all of their collective favorites. "I am unfamiliar with this part of mortality. I hope there is something that you find palatable." Dean and Sam look at each other.

"Yeah, I think we can find something." Dean rolls his eyes. "Please, make yourself comfortable." Azrael motions to the empty chairs. "If you will excuse me, there is something I need to attend to."

The boys settle into the feast as Azrael leaves the room. She walks into the hallway. Something is not right. Something, something, something… she can feel it in her bones. She drops to her knees. The pain is like nothing like she has ever experienced. She grabs the wall to stabilize herself.

The brothers take in their surroundings as they eat. Sam pokes fun at the fact there is even pie.

War walks down the hall to find Azrael. "Azrael." War assists her to her feet. "It's nothing." War knows Azarel well enough to know all is far from fine. "It's nothing." Azrael settles herself on her feet. She has not felt anything like that since Raphael. War leans against the wall as she watches her.

"I'm good." She straightens up and walks into the room with Dean and Sam. Dean can see a change in her. War lingers in the hallway watching.

"How is everything?" She takes a seat near the pair. "It's great." Sam answers as Dean gets up from his chair. He walks to the nearby table and pours a cup of coffee. He returns to the table placing the cup in front of Azrael. Azrael is surprised. "You drink it." She smiles at Dean. "I am familiar with the custom but thank you."

Azrael picks up the cup and takes a sip. It happens again. She drops the cup as she grabs her head. She has Dean and Sam's undivided attention. Sam reaches for her. "It's nothing."

"That is not nothing. I thought you can't die." Sam is actually concerned.

Azrael looks up at him. "I can't"

"It doesn't mean that she does not feel." Castiel is standing in the room. Azrael exchanges a look with Castiel. "Take them."

Dean and Sam watch Azrael drop to her knees in the room before the blackness envelopes them.

Dean wakes up in his bed back in the bunker. He is confused as he takes in the room. He rubs his head and tries to focus. As he sorts his thoughts Sam appears in the doorway.

"I had the weirdest dream." He takes a seat on the end of the bed. "Did it star a weird archangel can't die divine chick that smells like mom? If I does… I had the same dream."


	12. All Sinners are the Same (Updated)

You and I will die unbelievers tied to the tracks of the train….

War waits for her in the darkness. He sits at the table where he and the others played cards. He has a cigar and a glass of scotch. Azrael enters the room looking quite worse for the wear. Her face is bloody as she picks up his glass and takes a long drag from it. War takes in the sight of Azrael. She looks as if she has come from combat but he knows this is not ordinary combat. There are few things that would manifest upon Azrael this way. The blood from her lip the marks upon her face. This is of the other realm and this is something... something beyond what they have faced in the past. War knows that of the Horsemen, he is the one Azrael holds most dear. Their collective loyalty to Azrael is without question. She is their master. They were created to serve her and none of them would ever turn against her. She brought the Winchester boys into the fold for a reason. At this time, it is a reason that only Azrael knows. The last time he had seen her in such a state was the death of Raphael.

"Well you had better decide whether you're hanging on the cross or banging in the nails, Az." War begins the conversation.

She takes the seat across from him. War gets up grabs the bottle and pours an additional glass for himself. He brings the bottle back to the table and places it between them. Azrael swirls the amber liquid in the glass before finishing it off in a single sip. She reaches over grabbing the bottle to refill her glass. This is one mortal custom she has grown to enjoy and savor.

"He has crossed a line." War puffs away at his cigar as he continues. He knows Metatron is at the heart of this. "Are you gonna do something? Or just stand there and bleed?"

"I ain't got time to bleed." She taps her glass against his. She opens a wooden box that is resting on the table and takes out a cigar. War gets up and offers the flame from his lighter. War always had good taste in vices.

"I see we have been hanging out with Fidel?" She savors the first drag from the Havana. War gives her a wink.

"Actually, Hemingway. You got a plan?" When you have been around this long, you meet a character or two and Hemingway is always a good time.

She gives him a wicked little grin as she answers him. "I got a plan." She sits back in the chair and puts her feet up. She is not ready to share and knows that War will beg the indulgence.

War sits back in his chair with smile assuming a position similar to Azrael. "I have a feeling this is going to be more fun than the fall of Rome."

"Have Nero clear his dance card, my Darling. First things first, I need you to find me a Time Lord." Azrael's orders are clear and curious.

"And?" He is intrigued by the chance to go play with a Time Lord.

"Find Gavin, keep him alive and keep the collateral damage to a minimum." War can see the gears turning in Azrael's mind. Azrael has some deals to make.

"Now that's not fun… why alive?" War baits Azrael for information.

"Leverage, leverage my darling." Azrael takes a puff of the cigar. War is intrigued by the boss' plan. She is a bit of a rebel and a rogue. It is what he loves about her. Whatever her plan, it is sure to be an adventure.

Dean and Sam get a call from Castiel, he needs their help with some apparent bombings. Dean cannot resist the blade. Despite his promise to Sam, he keeps it with him. He needs it. Dean heard the desperation in Cass' voice. Cass knows what this is and he is none too pleased. He is a leader but he is not a General. He knows he lacks the black heart needed for this type of war. Azrael asked this of him. He must abide.

The next few days present the brothers with unique challenges as they search for the answers to the "angels" gone rogue. The days leave them with few answers and more than enough disturbing information about Metatron's master plan. Sam worries about Dean. He killed a reaper. Sam knows that little detail will be known to Azrael. The change in Dean is so distinct. There is violence bubbling beneath the surface. Sam can see it. Despite is pleas, Dean does not. Afterall, he is fan-freaking-tastic.

Castiel is reeling from the loss of his army. He chose Dean. He had to choose Dean. He has an obligation to the brothers. After what they have been through, it was never a matter of choice. He needs to find a way to control the rage within Dean. Tessa may have committed angelcide on the blade but it was Dean who brought the blade. Castiel is disturbed at the level of despair among these angelic creatures. How far have they fallen?

Metatron again calls upon Azrael. They meet in another cathedral. Metatron is relishing in his plans aligning like the stars. Azarel can see them as she approaches the door; Castiel's angels have now aligned with Metatron. The angels cast their eyes to the ground in her presence. They know the power of Azrael. The look of her disturbs them and their betrayal of one of their own radiates off of them.

Azrael keeps her swagger as she walks into the cathedral. He is waiting for her. He sits on the altar, swinging his feet like a child. She can see the delight in his expression as he takes in Azrael's appearance.

"Azarel." His voice has the tickle of joy as he sings her name.

"Metatron." Azrael leans against one of the pews. Metatron can see it. He can see the damage. It thrills him.

"I see you have admired my work." He hops down and walks towards Azrael. Azrael does not alter her stance. She remains steadfast as he draws closer.

"I would not call it admiration." Her tone is even-keeled which gets Metatron's attention. He knows that Azrael is the only thing remaining in his path.

"It was a brilliant plan don't you think. Much like ones from you beloved generals." He pokes fun at her.

Azrael rolls her eyes at him. "You are playing with forces that you do not understand, M." Her tone remains at is it was.

"Oh, Az… you have no idea of what I am capable of. Darling sister, I am the perfect storm." He draws himself within inches of Azrael's face.

Azrael surveys his cock of the walk attitude. She knows that a blow has been dealt but this war is far from over. Death is always the dark horse and there is no going back. She knows what she must do but it is not yet the time.

She stands before her brother, squaring up to him to continue the conversation, when suddenly she is dropped to her knees. Metatron does not know where this is coming from. He did not order any of his elite angels to sacrifice; even he does not know the source of impact on Azrael. It intrigues him. She can't die but he knew how to make her suffer. Angels taking their own lives… that has impact. The impact to Azrael is just a bonus. This is not his doing and he is curious. In a second Azrael is gone. Metatron returns to his minions. There is work to be done.

Azrael manifests in front of Dean. She grabs his hand stopping the blade from connecting a second blow. Castiel and Sam are lunging at Dean from behind as she appears. Azrael can hear the moans from Gadreel at her feet. The power of the blade is taking hold. This was not part of the deal.

"Drop the blade, Dean." Azrael's voice roars into Dean's ears. It is a command. Dean's rage is flowing through his veins like lava rushing down the sides of a volcano yet he is calm as still waters. Sam and Castiel grab him and pull him away as the blade strikes the ground. The sound of the blade striking the ground lingers in his ears. Dean is lost in the haze. Their collective voices are rendered to nothing more than Charlie Brown talk within his head.

He commands his strength pushing Sam and Cass away as he lunges for the blade. He needs it. It is part of him. He cannot be separated from it. He pulls away from them, grabbing the blade again. He prepares to strike another blow to Gadreel. He must kill him. As he pulls the blade back preparing for the kill, he sees Azrael. There is blood running down her face as she stands before him protecting Gadreel. The fire is raging but her appearance startles him long enough for Sam to wrestle him to the ground. Sam fights Dean with all of his strength. He pins him to the ground. Azrael turns away from both of them to try to save Gadreel. His grace is flowing from him at an alarming rate. The blade begins to release its hold on Dean as the grace fills the room. Castiel tries to help Azrael as they frantically try to save the dying angel.

Sam watches in horror. Dean drops to his knees with Sam following him to the ground. "Dean, what have you done."


	13. I Know I Let You Down

Dean struggles beneath Sam's weight. Sam has his knee planted squarely in the center of his back. Sam will not allow him to move. He will not allow him to rise. "Dean, stop just stop." Dean can hear the plea in his brother's voice. He becomes still and moves his head to watch the frantic efforts of Azrael and Cass.

Gadreel's head is cradled within Azrael's hands. He is speaking to her in hushed tones that Dean can barely hear. He feels the release. The anger has subsided within him. The sadness is taking a firm hold.

He catches a glimpse of Azrael. There are tears of blood rolling off her cheeks. What has he done? He goes limp beneath Sam. Sam can feel it. He looks down to make sure Dean is alright. He can see the look of utter despair on his face. He cannot take the chance on releasing him when the blade is so close.

Azrael holds Gadreel close to her. Sam can see the radiance surrounding them. "Azrael, have you come for me?" She looks into his eyes. There is a plea for mercy within them. "I came in peace Azrael, I came to stop him." Azrael attempts to hush him. "I know you did."

"He must be stopped. He… he is going to bring the end of days, Azrael. He must be stopped." Gadreel grabs Azrael's arm and reaches for Castiel. "Castiel, I did not know what he was doing. Constantine… Tessa. I brought them to him and he slaughtered them."

Castiel takes his hand. "I know. I know my brother." Gadreel goes limp in Azrael's arms. Azrael can feel the rage within her own being at this senseless slaughter. She is responsible for this. She turns and looks at Dean. Dean can feel it in her stare. It tears at the fibers of his soul. He cannot look at her and diverts his gaze. Sam watches the interaction with grave concern for his brother.

Azrael looks at Castiel. She leans over Gadreel and in a flash of golden light is gone along with the blade. Azrael has taken it with her. Sam is relieved to see that it has vanished in the light.

Dean feels as if part of him is being ripped from stem to stern. Sam can see the pained expression. He flips Dean over. Dean convulses in agony. Castiel in a moment of mercy taps Dean on the forehead rendering him unconscious.

The pained expression dissolves into rest. Sam surveys Cass. Cass goes to the wall and slides down to the floor. He places his arms over his knees and rests his head. Sam is dumbfounded with what to do. He leaves Dean's side and joins Cass taking a seat next to him. Sam's eyes remain fixed on his brothers unconscious form.

Azrael enters her library the rage within her is now on the surface. She lets out a guttural scream as the books fly from the shelves and come crashing to the floor. The scream rattles off stone walls amplifying in the echo. Castiel can hear the sound like thunder echoing through the air. He is now fearful for his friends. Azrael has never been vengeful but there is a limit to everything in the universe.

Azrael sits in the middle of the compass rose on the marble floor. She needs to tame her own rage before making her next move. She sits in the silence for a long while when she feels the hand on her shoulder.

He took a terrible risk but she needed him. He cannot deny her. There is too much at stake. She is the only one with the power. Perhaps their father knew what he was doing. They cannot risk Metatron sensing that he is alive so he cannot stay long. He kneels in front of her. She stares at the boots on his feet. She takes in the scent of his form. She does not react and she does to yet move. She can feel his forehead against her own as she remains motionless. She can feel his warmth. She can feel his touch as he wipes away a tear falling from her cheek. He came when she called for him. Perhaps she is not as alone as she feels. He knew of the angelcide. He did not know it would manifest upon Azrael has it has. He takes in the view of her battered shell. He knows it is just window dressing and that she remains intact but it still touches him.

"I'm weary. I'm broken." Her voice is quiet and soft. The touch is warm and welcome. She misses all of them to the core of her being. "I don't want to be lost anymore." She feels his arm wrap around her neck and the gentle touch of a kiss to her head. It radiates from her head to her feet.

"We all stumble in the light of Grace, Az." Gabriel's voice soothes the rage in his sister. He needs her to focus on the task at hand. She is the only one who can make this right. She just needs the will to do it and he knows she has not yet found it.

"Everywhere I turn, nothing is good." Azrael's thoughts are rambling along with her words.  
"We all fumble with the gift of free will, Azrael. You are not the first and you will not be the last." He lingers in front of her. His light bathes her in grace. In a moment, he is gone. She knew he could not stay. She stares upward. She knows there is nothing to see but the skylight. None of them have been in this situation before.

"My refuge… my father… why?" She stands in the center of the rose raising her arms towards the skylight. "I don't want to be lost again."

She walks out of the room. As she shuts the door, the books return to the shelves and order within the room is restored.

Castiel watches Dean in silence. He does not speak to Sam. He is at a lost as to what to say. They remain for what feels like an eternity to Sam.  
Her appearance is sudden. Sam does not even have a moment to react. Azrael stands before them. Her eyes have a steeliness that Sam has never seen on her before. He is not afraid but he is worried for Dean. Before he can make a move towards Dean, they are gone. Azrael has taken Dean from them.

Sam whips around to face Cass. "She won't harm him." Cass' words do not bring solace to Sam. Dean murdered an angel in front of her. Sam knew in his heart that Gadreel had come in peace. He just knew it. There one clear shot to stop Metatron was compromised by the rage within Dean. He wonders again about the damage to Dean's soul from his time in Hell. Sam cannot escape the thought of the effect of the torture had upon his brother. He can see it. Castiel attempts to quiet Sam as he tries to sense where Azrael has taken Dean.


	14. Time After Time (Updated)

Dean wakes on the floor of a concrete room. The room is lit by the stark light provided by the single bulb suspended from the ceiling. The space resembles a dungeon. He wonders for a second if he is back in the depths of Hell but if feels different. He pushes himself to his knees. His back is killing him from where Sam's knee had been firmly planted a short time ago. He tries to focus himself. His body aches from wrestling with Sam.

None of it seems real. The realization of what he has done bears down on him. He sits on the ground wrapping his hands around his head trying to quiet his mind. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled back. The mark of Cain is blazing on his skin. He looks down at it for a few moments. He feels the calm wash over him, the calm of the assassin. He knows the blade is near. He can feel it in his bones. It calls to him like a siren calling sailors to the rocks.

He surveys the room. It is on the table nearby. He tries to resist the urge to go to it but it is too much. He must, it is not a choice. It is a need. He holds it in his hands awash with the calm and clarity that the blade provides. He takes a breath of the familiar scent of Azrael. He knows he is standing in the shadows watching him.

"So you want to play with magic." Azrael steps from the shadows into the edges of the light. "Now, there is no going back, Dean." He takes in the sight of her across the room from him. Her voice has an edge. He expects her anger.

Dean looks down at the blade for a moment then back to Azrael. He knows her anger centers on Tessa and with Gadreel. Azrael never felt like a threat. Now, everything feels like a threat.

"If you dare to do this, you should know what you are fighting for." She circles closer to him. Dean does not want to ready himself for battle but he cannot resist. He takes a combative stance in front of her. Azrael needs to find a way to control him. She needs him. IT would seem that Crowley has left out a few of the details when he told her about Dean.

"Why are you trying to make me your enemy?" Dean begins to circle opposite Azrael. His voice is roaring from his body. His defenses are unyielding. He feels powerful. He feels invincible.

Azrael's eyes narrow as she matches his maneuvers. "You fight me but I am on your side, Dean. All you need is a little peace." She is waiting for it. She can sense it coming. He is smoldering before her. She does not want to do this but she must.

"You'd better choose carefully. I am capable of anything." Dean's words linger as a warning. The threat is anything but veiled.

The mark blazes on his skin. He moves closer to Azrael. Suddenly, his head is filled with images. The images drive him. Drive him towards her. The rage builds within him. He lunges towards her. She allows him to get close, then with a flick of her fingertips he is thrown against the wall.

The impact radiates through his body. He rises again and lunges towards her. Again, with a flick of her fingertips she throws him against the wall. His rage multiplies with every impact. He gets up again and again for what feels like hours. Finally, he gets close to her. There is fire in his veins. He must kill her. He must.

Azrael does not raise her hands. She does not move from him. Dean plunges the first blade into her form over and over again in frenzy of slashes. He slashes at her until he literally collapses on the ground out of pure exhaustion. The blade falls from his grasp. His breaths are coming in painful heaves. The blade sits inches from his fingertips but he has no desire to have it within his grasp.

Azrael leans down in front of him. She touches his shoulder. Dean looks into her eyes. "We good?" Dean's words are broken by his gasps for air. She leans downs and kisses his cheek. Dean pulls her down to him. Azrael is curious and indulges him. Dean leans his head against hers. He kisses her again after a ragged inhalation. He holds the side of her face with the hand that held the blade. Azrael knows her control over Dean has been restored. Now, she just needs to keep it.

Castiel and Sam arrive at the warehouse that Sam had tracked Dean's phone to. It is an abandoned industrial area with numerous ominous buildings. Sam's fear for Dean grows with every passing moment as they exit the car. Castiel knows she is here. He can feel her. He feels Dean's pain but does not know if he should be alarmed. They search the building for Azrael and Dean.

Azrael walks out of the room passing Sam and Castiel in the hallway. It took them longer than she expected. Castiel is distracted by his own thoughts. Azrael has a thousand mile stare as she walks down the hallway. Sam wants to speak to her but he is rendered unable to form a sentence. Sam is not sure he wants to see what has been done. Castiel senses his fear and is the first to enter the room.

Dean is in the center of the room with his chest heaving. Sam rushes to him. "What did she do to you?" Dean tries to catch his breath to form a coherent thought. "She broke him." Cass answers for him. Castiel now knows what Azrael did and more importantly, he has a feeling he knows why she did it.

The only way to control the rage was to break him. It was an act of futility for Dean to try to kill her yet he tried for hours. She gave him a battle he could not win. He could slash her until kingdom come and it would be a fool's errand. The only way to control the rage was to break him. Azrael needs to control Dean. She is using him as a weapon.

Sam helps Dean to his feet. There is blood dripping from his nose. He is quite sure he broke a rib or two from the impact of with the wall. His hands are nicked and cut from the constant battle. Sam is concerned with the relationship between Azrael and Dean. There is something that bothers him about it.

"We had better get out of here." Castiel warns the brothers. With the changes in their world as of late, they need to be aware of circumstance. Sam helps Dean into the back seat of the Impala. As they head home to the bunker, Castiel attempts to heal Dean's wounds. He tries numerous times without success.

"It's alright, Cass. I think this is part of the lesson." Dean tries to make himself comfortable as they drive.


	15. Ba Ba

The trio arrives back at the bunker. Dean is in pain from the combat with Azrael. Sam offers to try to patch him up but Dean declines. He wants to remember this. He needs to remember this. He doesn't know what is wrong with him. He doesn't understand the disconnect that the blade creates within him.

He is weary in the aftermath and decides to lie down for a while. He is trying to sort his thoughts about Azrael. He is strangely drawn to this creature. He fights to find a comfortable position on the bed as he descends onto the mattress.

Sam and Castiel remain in the common room. Castiel knows that Sam has questions only he is not sure he has the answers. Sam gets them each a beer from the fridge. They sit across from each other in an uncomfortable silence as they relax into the couch and chair.

Castiel knows she will return. To control Dean, she has to be close to him. He needs answers. Sam sniffs the air. He can smell her scent. He takes it in for a short while. He didn't remember it until Dean said it. It does smell like Mom. Lilly of the Valley, Lilac… her favorites… The scent brings comfort. Azrael can sense Sam's trip down memory lane and remains in the shadows in silence.

Castiel looks up into the shadows pulling Sam from his memories. Azrael manifests next to Sam on the couch. Azrael looks just as weary as Dean. She doesn't speak. She sits back and puts her feet up on the table in front of her. Sam gets up to pull another round from the fridge. He brings a beer for Azrael too.

She looks at the bottle with a smile. "Got anything stronger?" Sam walks out of the room and returns with a bottle of Jack Daniels and a glass. He hands it to her with a smirk.

"That will do." She takes the bottle and glass from Sam. She sets the glass down and opens the bottle. To Sam's surprise, she just drinks straight from the bottle. It reminds him of John Belushi in Animal House. He returns to the seat next to her.

"You know that I am incapable of killing him." Azrael does not make eye contact with him as she speaks. "I know." Castiel remains silent. He knows Azrael and Sam need to make peace with each other and both of them are acting out of concern for Dean.

"Riddle me this." Sam takes a long drag from the beer as he chooses his words with care.  
"Sure Thing, Batman." Sam is astonished as to how quickly she is downing the bottle of Jack forgetting that she is not a mortal. He is actually curious if she can do a bender like Cass.

"Why are you using him?" Azrael surveys Sam before she answers. "I didn't turn him into a weapon. Crowley gave you the idea and free will did the rest. You are the ones who made a deal with the Devil over the First Blade… Heard your brother made a promise to Cain just to make it epic, bro."

Sam can hear the edge in Azrael's voice but it is not anger. It sounds far more rooted in annoyance than anger. She didn't answer his question. The look on Cass' face tells him to let that little nugget go. Azrael finishes the bottle and sets it on the table. She stands, straightens her clothing and turns to face Castiel.

"You need to secure him until I get back." Her words are in the form of a request. This is a command.

"Secure him?" Azrael turns towards Sam.

"I am quite certain that I did not stutter when I said you need to secure him." Sam does what Castiel deems as unthinkable. He grabs a hold of Azrael. Azrael looks down at each of his hands as they grip her arms. "Why." Sam's words come out as a desperate command.

"Sam." She gently gets Sam to release his grip by with a glance towards his hands. "What you need to understand is that he needs to kill. If he does not kill it will affect him. It will adversely affect him."

Azrael walks away from him and into Dean's room. Castiel stops Sam from following her. Dean feigns sleep on the bed as she approaches. "You know you keep showing up while I'm in bed and people are going to talk."

The comment actually brings a smile to Azrael's face. "Let them talk." Dean painfully shifts on the bed to allow room for Azrael to sit next to him. He takes in her scent as she moves towards him. It never gets old.

Azrael reaches down and touches his chest. A warmth radiates through his bones as the pain subsides throughout his body. Dean sits up on the bed now that the pain is gone. He feels renewed and invigorated. He swings his legs to the side of the bed next to Azrael. She stands up in front of him. Dean knows she is going to leave him and also stands. Azrael gently pulls his face down to her own and gives him a soft kiss. Much to Dean's surprise it is not on the cheek. She kisses him on the lips. The kiss radiates through him. It creates desire within him. She touches his face and walks out the door. Dean has to smile. This creature beguiles him. Dean takes a moment and then trails behind her back to the common room.

She walks up to Sam and kisses him on the cheek. Sam feels the kiss radiate through him. She walks up to Castiel and gives him a kiss on the cheek. She locks hands with Castiel. As their interlocked fingers release from each other she reminds him. "Remember, Secure him. I'll see you soon."

Dean walked out in time to hear Azrael's words. "What the hell do you mean by "secure him."" Azrael has dissipated from the room. Cass and Sam exchange a look before approaching Dean.

Azrael is in a vintage 70's Mercedes convertible heading down to where she feels at home. It is time to head back to NOLA.


	16. Black Sheep

Azrael pulls up in front of an elegant French Quarter Hotel. The valet takes her car and retrieves her luggage from the trunk. She glances over her shoulder acknowledging some familiar creatures lingering in the evening shadows. Her room is elegantly appointed. Her dress is equally refined. She cuts the figure of an old money socialite. She is greeted with familiarity by the staff. She generously tips he bellhops as they deliver her bags to the room. It is time to primp for the evening's activities. There is a ball to attend.

As she dresses for the ball, War joins her in the room. "You always look lovely in Edwardian." Azrael is dressed in an elaborate velvet gown. He toasts her with a glass. "Did you do as I asked?" He laughs as he rises.

"Forever and always, my dearest." He approaches her as she places her hat upon her head and lowers the veil." War picks up her elaborate jet necklace and places it upon her neck. War is outfitted in period tuxedo in fashionable brocade. He places his top hat upon his head as she slips on her gloves. War offers his hand. He gently kisses her gloved hand as he takes her arm and intertwines it with his own. "Shall we."

The pair exits the hotel and stroll towards the ball. Azrael always loved New Orleans. Throughout the centuries, so many of her favorite moments took place here. The French Quarter is of particular sentimentality and War knows this little detail so very well. "It is a lovely evening in lovely company." Azrael smiles at War enjoying the brief moment of serenity as they walk along the cobble stone. She takes in the sights and sounds of the quarter.

They enter another grand hotel. War is always a gracious companion. Azrael loves the chivalry of bygone eras. War fetches drinks as they walk among familiar faces. "It is good to be home." War toasts as they make conversation with friends old and new. Azrael knows that he will be here. It is favorite haunt and the ball will be hard for him to resist.

The evening has been delightful thus far and has truly elevated Azrael's mood. She has missed the finer things. She has missed the gentility. War turns on her the dance floor as they sway to the music. He approaches her from behind. War can see him as he desires to cut in. War gently spins Azrael into his arms giving her a wink.

"Hello my, Darling." Azrael would know the voice anywhere. He pulls her in close to him. "You know how much I love you in Edwardian. Those were good times, Love, good times."

"A dance with the Devil, how very… original." She gives him a coy look.

"I was going for romantic but original will do… I do love it when you are feisty." He enjoys her presence in his arms as they dance to a couple of songs. As the music stops, Crowley offers his arm to Azrael.

Crowley retrieves a bottle of champagne and glasses from a passing butler as he again offers his arm to Azrael. "Let us find some where a bit quieter to talk." War watches Azrael leave with Crowely. "Godspeed." He toasts her with his glass of scotch and a half chuckle.

Crowley leads Azrael into a lavishly appointed room full of elegant furnishings and dark wood. Azrael takes a seat on a velvet chair as Crowley pops the cork on the champagne.

"It has been a long time Cara mia." He hands her a glass. He taps his glass against hers. She responds as she takes a sip. "Mon cher."

He snaps his fingers and music begins to play. "How long has it been since we waltzed?" He removes the glass from her hand and pulls her into his arms. Azrael rolls her eyes at him as they begin to dance.

"Darling, you have been a naughty boy as of late." Azrael scolds as he spins her away from him.

"Pish, posh. Details." He teases as he kisses her hand. "You know I would kill for you, I would die for you, either way what bliss, Cara mia." He takes in her scent mixed with her perfume. The scent intoxicates him.

"Why wait, Mon cher." Azrael winks at him through her veil. Her red lips call out to him. He loves her this way. It reminds him of simpler days.

"Don't tease me, Darling." He pulls her tightly into him. His affection for Azrael is quite clear. He knows Azrael wants to talk and he just wants a few moments of bliss.

"You left out a detail or two about the brothers Winchester." He raises a finger to her lips to silence her. "Give me a few more minutes."

"Last time, you were unhinged, like some desperate howling demon." He gives her a wicked grin at her tease. "Do it again." He laughs at her statement as he dips her.

Azrael knows that this will not be her last encounter with Crowley, she decides to indulge him. Plus, she could use a few moments lost in a simpler time. She thinks back to her past adventures with Crowley. The thoughts bring levity to this complicated time. Her family was intact. Her brothers were their quarrelsome selves. There was order to the universe or at least to her universe.

There will be time to talk. To talk about the blade… to talk about the Winchesters… to talk about Gavin. Best to make some honey, in case she needs to bait a honey trap.


	17. A Blessing Or A Curse

Sam and Castiel lure Dean into the containment room within the bunker. Sam can hear Dean's pleas through the door. Each one tears at him a bit. What have they become? He locks the door with a look towards Cass. Castiel looks toward the sky for answers. He wishes that he could read Azrael but she is beyond his ability.

"Cass, what is Azrael? Is she an archangel? Can she be trusted?" Castiel takes Sam into the common room to get him out of earshot of Dean's pleas.

"Sam, she is neither. She is not an archangel. Actually, I don't know what she is. She was created to deal with humanity, with immortals… everything."

Sam finds no solace in Cass' words. He wants answers and is only getting more questions. "Can she kill Metatron or is that what Dean is for?" Castiel had fostered the same thoughts not long ago.

"Sam, I don't know… I just don't know but right now, she is all we have. She is our big stick so to speak. There are not a whole lot of them left." Castiel gets another beer and sits to await Azrael's return.

Crowley continues his romantic evening with Azrael. She indulges his whims 'til the wee hours of the morning. She kisses him gently on the lips as he lies unconscious on the bed. She turns and taps the closet door. She gives the cherubs a wink as she releases them. "Make sure it lives up to my reputation."

She places a red rose on the pillow with a note to Crowley before she leaves.

War pulls up to the front of the hotel in the red Mercedes. The doorman opens the door of the car for Azrael as War gives her a wicked little wink. "Get your thoughts out of the gutter my dearest. Now home, James… we have work to do." They head out into the early morning sun.

Sam and Castiel are strung about the couches in restless sleep. They awake to Azrael walking through the wall. Sam rubs his eyes. "There is a door."

"Oh Pish Posh… details." Azrael begins to remove her gloves. She is still dressed in her Edwardian ball gown. "I didn't realize your visit was black tie or I would have changed." Azrael gives Sam a once over for his morning dose of sarcasm.

"I can only assume you have yet to indulge in your morning coffee?" Sam rolls his eyes at her. "I would suggest that you tend to that primal need… where is he?" Castiel offers to lead her to the room as Sam heads to the kitchen.

Castiel opens the door to find Dean slumped in the middle of the floor. There is blood smeared across the walls and a pool near Dean. Castiel is taken aback by the sight. Dean looks up at them. There is blood running from his nose and mouth. His clothes are soaked with sweat and blood.  
"Leave us." There is no mistaking Azrael's tone. Reluctantly, Castiel shuts the door behind him.

Azrael leans down to Dean. Dean looks up in confusion at her attire. She sits on the ground and lays Dean's head in her lap. She gently strokes his hair hushing him. The blood begins fade from the room and from his face and clothes. "It is the curse of the blade, Dean."

He can feel the softness of the velvet of her skirt coupled with the gentle touch of her hands, he wishes that he could keep this feeling. The only peace he finds is in her presence. Azrael stays with him for a long while. She needs to be sure that she has stabilized him. When she is sure that he is ready, she stands offering her hand to help him to his feet.

She waves her hand at the door which opens before them. She surveys Dean's condition one last time before exiting the room. "Come." Dean is happy to be leaving the room. There were moments that he thought that he would not be walking out of it under his own power. She leads him back to the common room. Castiel's expression is a giveaway that something is dramatically different with Dean.

She gathers the three of them together in the common room. She looks them over for a moment which makes all of the uncomfortable. "Take off your shirts." All three look at each other and then at her like she has lost her mind. "This isn't an audition for Chippendales… Take them off." Again, they hesitate. Azrael looks back at them with a look that has the three of them stripping off their shirts like their clothes were on fire.

Azrael walks up to Sam first. She places her hand on his chest over his heart. A mark manifests on his skin. It is a sign that they have never seen in any of their books. She repeats the process on Dean and on Castiel.

"What is this?" Castiel is only one with the nerve to speak. "Protection." Azrael steps away from them. "You can put your shirts back on." War appears in the doorway and walks into the room. "It is old magic, Cass… very old magic."

Azrael has wondered into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. War leads them into the kitchen to follow her. Azrael is staring at the stove trying to figure it out. Dean laughs as he turns the knob. "This is a new kind of magic." He proceeds to make the tea for her, it is the least that he can do. Dean actually digs in the cabinet to pull out a china teacup to serve her tea in.

"I don't know about you… but I need a beer." Dean reaches down and grabs a beer from the fridge. Sam grabs another coffee offering some to War and Cass.

They sit around the table like a true band of misfits. Azrael looks up absent mindedly at War. "You know if Metatron wants a war… we just may have to give him one."

War gives her a wicked grin from across the table which definitely gets the attention of the others. "If we are going to fight a war… we are going to need an army." War offers his opinion with the look of a snake oil salesman.

"I'll fuel the jet and get a flight plan." War whips out a cellphone. "Back your bags gentlemen, we are going to Vegas."


	18. For Better or For Worse

Crowley rolls over to see the note from Azrael. The note is on old parchment in a long forgotten style of writing. The rose and her words bring a smile to his face. He has missed Azrael. He lies back as memories of their past adventures surface in his mind. He would sacrifice his tomorrows to return to those yesterdays.

War made the arrangements. Sam, Dean and Castiel follow behind War and Azrael to a private airstrip where a private jet is fueled and waiting for their arrival.

"Well, she certainly knows how to travel." Sam surveys the G5 on the tarmac. "Vegas, Baby." Dean parks the car. "So what's in Vegas?" Sam asks of Castiel.

"I don't know. Azrael isn't like other angels. She is not bound to one side or the other." Castiel is trying to figure out to explain Azrael.

"What the hell does that mean? She can switch hit for hell?" Dean's sarcasm is clear.

"No… she is on neither side…" Castiel makes another attempt to explain something he doesn't even understand.

"You are telling me she is basically an angelic version of Switzerland?" Sam offers the thought into the conversation.

"I don't know what that means." Castiel gets out of the back seat of the car, joining Sam and Dean at the front of the car.

Azrael is speaking with the flight crew as War motions for them to join them.

They arrive in Vegas in style with a car waiting at the airport. "Good Evening, Miss A." The driver opens the door for them to get into a black super stretch. They are driven to a lavish hotel on the strip.

When they arrive, they are swept in and treated like VIPs. Everyone seems to know Azrael which Sam and Dean find to be very interesting. They are taken to a penthouse villa. The room is lavishly appointed.

"Now, I could get used to this." Dean plops down on the couch. Sam checks out the rest of the place with Castiel. Azrael spins around in the main room. Her clothes are instantly transformed into evening wear.

"How cool would it be if you turned into Wonder Woman." Dean survey's her new attire. She walks past the back the couch. She pauses as she strokes the side of Dean's face with a whisper. "I'm already Wonder Woman and if you are good… I'll tie you up with the lasso of truth." She gives him a wink and runs her fingers through the top of his hair.

She fetches Castiel and Sam from the other room. "Okay, get ready it is time to go." They look at each other in confusion. "Ah… get dressed?"

"We are dressed." They simultaneously answer her.

Again, they look at her. "Ok, you are not accompanying me looking like that. I have a rep to protect."

She takes Sam and guides him to the center of the room. She looks him over as she waves her hand in the air. Sam's attire changes with every wave. She decides that she needs them in tuxes… tuxes with a twist. She does the same with Dean. She finally arrives at Castiel who resists. She plays with his look until she finds a nice Armani. She looks over her work. "That will do."

She takes a second look at Castiel. She reaches up and musses his hair. "Perfect."

The trio takes a look at themselves in the mirror. "Even you could get laid, looking like that, Cass."

They see War's refection manifest in the mirror. Azrael and War have a hushed conversation behind them. "Time to go boys." They follow Azrael and War to the tables where they are catered to as high rollers. War takes up a place playing cards with the Azrael and the trio standing behind him. War casts a knowing glance towards Azrael as several men approach. They approach Azrael and ask for her to accompany them. She gives War a wink and a wave and motions for the others to follow her.

They are escorted into a dimly light private room deep in the labyrinth of the casino. "Azrael, it has been a long, long time." An older gentleman with a heavy accent rises as Azrael approaches. "It has been too long." She greets the gentleman warmly with an embrace and a kiss to each cheek. The gentleman motions for her to take a seat in front of him.

"So who are the Musketeers?" He motions towards Dean, Sam and Castiel. "Musketeers?... more like Stooges but they are with me." Ivan motions to several of his men who immediately fetch a bottle of vodka and a couple of glasses.

"What brings you to my humble little establishment?" He opens the vodka, pouring two shots. He offers one to Azrael. She accepts it with a smile.

"To old friends, wherever they may be." He raises his glass tapping it against Azrael's. They each down the shot. "I need a favor."

"The great Azrael asks me for a favor." He pours two more shots. They again tap glasses, downing the shot. "That is very interesting given the current circumstances in our world." He eyes her closely. Azrael simply gives him a smile and a wicked little wink.

"If I should grant you a favor, what would I expect to receive in return?" He casts a mischievous glance. He pours yet another round for them which is immediately consumed.

"A favor." He eyes her closely. "A favor from the great Azrael, now that is quite a bargaining chip… What is this favor that you wish to ask of me?"

Azrael takes the bottle and pours another round. "I need an army."

Ivan knew why she was here. He had been waiting for her. "An army you say. That is quite a favor." He tips the glass towards her. "You are going to make a run at your brother."  
Azrael responds to his inquiry. "I have not yet decided what I am going to do." She drinks her shot. "You know me, I prefer to carry a really big stick."

Her comment draws a deep belly laugh from Ivan. "and your terms are?"

Azrael smiles. "You know my terms." Ivan rubs his beard as he gazes upon Azrael. "Before I answer, why didn't you ask Crowley? He would do anything for you, Kitten." Those words get Dean and Sam's attention. What is Azrael's connection to Crowley?

"Let us say that I am planning on a really, really big stick." Azrael's answer is sufficiently coy for Ivan's amusement.

"That is not a big stick. That is a Redwood." Ivan pours yet another round, placing a glass in front of her. "That is quite a gamble, Kitten."

"I never gamble." Azrael again tips her glass towards her host before emptying her glass. "I win."

"You shall have your Army. I am going to enjoy watching this play out. Give Crowley my best when you see him."

Ivan rises and takes Azrael's hand into his own. He kisses her hand and then her cheeks. "Thank you, Ivan." Azrael returns the kisses to his cheeks. "I will be in touch." Azrael motions for the trio to follow her out.

Azrael transports them back to their villa where War is waiting. He knows from a single glance that Azrael was successfully in her request. He does not know her plan but he does not need to know it.

Azrael takes a seat on the couch. She sits back and places her hands on her head covering her eyes. Dean sits next to her assuming the same position on the couch. "What did he mean that Crowley would do anything for you?"

"Dean I have quite literally been around forever… you get bored." She responds without making eye contact with Dean.

"He was much more fun when he was an underling."

"So you had a relationship with Crowley?" Something about Dean's tone resembles that of a jealous lover. Sam cannot help but notice it.

"That my dear, is of no consequence and none of your business." Azrael stands and attempts to move away. Dean grabs her arm to stop her. He grabs her with enough force that it captures the attention of everyone in the room. Azrael knows it is the influence of the mark. She is willing to cut him a bit of slack in this particular situation. She releases his grip with a single glance towards his hand.

"If you will excuse me, I have a meeting to take." She freshens her lipstick in the mirror before she heads out the door.

Dean turns towards War. "Where is she going?" War laughs. "They don't call this Sin City for nothing."

Azrael manifests in her Corvette driving into the desert. There is another conversation that needs to be had this evening.


	19. Lose Your Heart and Mind to Me

Azrael drives into the darkness of the desert. She stops on the side of the road and waits for him. She walks along the car stopping to sit on the hood. The evening wear has been replaced by casual clothes and boots. In moments, there is a golden burst of light in front of the car. Azrael remains leaning against the car unaffected by the event. A man walks from the within the light assuming the position next to her leaning against the hood.

"Azrael." The man who joins her is tall and very thin, dressed in a steampunk style outfit complete with goggles and top hat. He gently tips his top hat in greeting.

"Nigel." Azrael stares out into the rising sun towards the East. "Do you have him?"

"Yes, I have him. He is definitely his father's son, Az." He also stares straight ahead.

"Royal pain in the ass?" Azrael knows all too well of the potential of Crowley's son unleashed.

"If the crown fits… what in the hell, pardon the pun, do you want me to do with him?"

"Nigel, I need you to keep him alive and out of trouble for a little longer. I need him."

Nigel pulls out a pipe and lights it as they sit on the hood with their feet up on the bumper watching the rising sun.

"You making a run at Metatron?" He puffs away on his pipe as Azrael speaks. "I may have no choice."

"Heard you tossed a Winchester or two into your holster." Nigel continues the conversation with nonchalance. "That should make the game a little more interesting. Shame your brothers aren't around to see it. You got a little Lucy in you girl."

Azrael rolls her eyes at him. "Hmmm, it may be more than a little." Nigel laughs as he surveys his companion.

"Yippie-ki-yay, Mother Flecker." The sarcasm in Azrael's voice is clear. Nigel fist bumps Azrael as he hops down from the hood of her car. He gives her a tip of his hat as he walks back into the golden light. Azrael remains seated on the hood as she takes in the first rays of morning light. The game has moved from checkers to battleship. It is time to compartmentalize this… just in case. She takes in the majesty of the sunrise against the sky. She is lost in her thoughts for a long time.

War is left with the charge of keeping the boys out of trouble. Once he is assured that Azrael is out of earshot. "Well boys, Az won't be back for hours, no sense in wasting an epic evening. The boys decide to hit the strip. Castiel and Sam soon learn that War and Dean share a lot of vices. Castiel is introduced to the custom of a high end gentleman's club. Dean and War are tossing out bills like they are ATMs.

Castiel is rather fascinated by the dancers. Dean buys him a lap dance. Azrael tunes into where her boys are. She walks into the club undetected by the others. She watches Dean lost in the movements of dancer who is inches from his face. Azrael seeks up behind him. She runs her hands through his hair and gently breathes into his ear. "One at a time, Darlin, there is plenty for all of you." She avoids his eyes in the dimly light room. Once Dean is sufficiently turned on, Azrael leans in. "You know what I want to do to you?" Her voice is sexy and breathless. Dean is expecting more fore play, instead he is smacked in the back of the head. He whips around in his seat and is shocked to see it is Azrael. He did not smell her scent and that concerns him. The sudden thrust of Dean's head forward gets the attention of War, Castiel and Sam. Azrael gives War a wave of a finger for his naughtiness. He returns with a shoulder shrug. War taps the seat next to him. War slides his glass over to her.  
"What can I say… got bored." Azrael rolls her eyes at him as she sits back and sips his drink. "I was only gone for two hours. " He waves down the bartender. "I bore easily."

After several hours and a fistful of bills, Azrael puts her boys to bed in the glaring sunlight of the morning. She walks into her room and lies on the bed picking up the remote. She flips through the channels. She knows he is here. She stops on the channel. Casa Erotica comes on. Azrael points at the TV, with a wave of her finger in the "come here" motion.

Gabriel appears next to her on the bed. He stands and surveys the room. "It has been a long time since we did Vegas, Baby Girl. At least I am rubbing off on you." He glances back at her. "Come on for old time sake." Azrael takes in the smile across his brother's face. Gabriel instantly outfits himself in tourist wares with a wave of his hands across his clothes.

Azrael and Gabriel hit the strip in the light of day. Of her brothers, Azrael was closest to Gabriel. She remembers long ago days when they could rebel without a care. They eat, drink and gamble. Gabriel loves the finer things but his favorite is a good diner. Outside the city limits, the pair sit across from each other feasting on comfort food and conversation. They talk about Michael and Lucifer with their never ending bickering. They talk of Raphael, Uriel and finally Metatron. Gabriel has heard of Azrael's visit with Ivan. Gabriel is curious about Azrael's involvement with Ivan. Ivan is better known to him as Ivanhoe. Ivan has been hard at work expanding his empire to include the misfits and rouges. When he thinks about it… perhaps it is the perfect match for his rebellious little sister.

As they drive back, Azrael can feel it… something is off. She looks at Gabriel. Her expression is an instant giveaway. "Go now." She does not even look to her right. Gabriel evaporates from the seat next to her. She can hear his call. Azrael stops the car and gets out. She walks into the thin air.

Azrael manifests inside a courthouse. It is an elaborate marble and stone building with stained glass windows beneath a huge dome. As she walks into the center of the building her heels make a hallow click against the marble. These are the spaces of man that she loves. The palaces of man…. She enters the center of the building which houses a grand marble staircase. She ascends the staircase to the next floor. Light is cast from one of the court rooms. She enters the courtroom which is paneled in rich mahogany. Metatron is sitting in the judge's seat playing the part completely with the robe and gavel.

"Well if it isn't Judge Judy." Azrael stops at the end of the approach aisle. Metatron turns around with a look of disgust. "So what's your ailment boy?" Azrael sits on the edge of one of the tables.

"Tell a person that you're the Metatron and they stare at you blankly. Mention something out of a Charlton Heston movie and suddenly everybody is a theology scholar."

"Not happy with humanity, dear brother?" Azrael swings her feet as she sits on the table.

"Azrael, join me." His tone is serious. "Castiel's angels have abandoned him, they serve me."

"I bow before no king, brother." Azrael drops back to the floor standing before the stand.

"Reconsider Azrael, if you do not stand with me. You stand against me." Azrael stands directly in front of him on the bench.

"I bow before no king." She restates her position angering Metatron.

"Then you will stand alone, Azrael, our brothers are gone. There is no one to stand with you. It will be you against me." Metatron's voice roars from his position above her.

"Since you love those little movies of yours… I'll leave you with this. I 'm coming for you and Hell's coming with me." Azrael turns from him and walks out. The only sound is the click of her heels on the marble as she walks out of the building.

She returns out of thin air to her car in the desert. She knows they are waiting for her. She immediately notices the bright red Mustang parked behind her Corvette. The four of them are lined up along the front of her car.

"Metatron?" War is the first to speak to her. Dean's expression bubbles with the fury that lies below the surface when Metatron's name is mentioned. Sam cannot help but notice the rage within Dean. Castiel knows in his heart that Azrael has taken a stand against Metatron.

"And?" Azrael stands before the four just as she stood before Metatron.

"He is dangerous, Az." Castiel knows all too well what Metatron is capable of when he sets his mind to it.

War gives her a wicked grin. "I'm coming for you and Hell's coming with me?... Nice touch."

"Knew you'd like that." She attempts step passed them. Castiel grabs her hand.

She gives him a smile. "Holding hands..really we are not in a nose dive."

"Time to dance with the devil." War laughs. "Again." He gets up from his position against the Corvette and heads towards the Mustang.

Azrael separates them taking Dean with her and sending Castiel and Sam with War. Sam does not like the separation but he knows Azrael calms Dean in a way that no other can.

"What is she going to do?" Castiel asks of War as they drive.

"If they were my brothers, I'd want revenge, too. Oh, make no mistake. It's not revenge she's after. It's a reckoning."


	20. You Can Never Go Back

"So you going to tell me what is on your mind or are you going to make me play twenty questions." Dean settles into the seat next to Azrael and into the cloak of comfort that the return of the scent of Lily of the Valley provides.

Azrael does not respond to him. She stares straight ahead lost in her thoughts. "Twenty questions it is." Azrael glances towards Dean with his second statement. She looks him over carefully for signs of the mark. She is doing everything in her power to contain him. She knows all too well that soon she is going to be multitasking on an epic scale and she will have to divert some of her attention away from Dean , that thought disturbs her to the core of her being.

Azrael remains silent, much to Dean's chagrin. He makes several more attempts to engage her without success. They drive for what seems to be hours. Dean knows the highway that they are on but he does not recognize the passing scenery. He and Sam have driven this highway on countless hunts yet why can't he figure out where they are or where they are going?

Azrael pulls up to a brick building. Dean notices that the building appears to be out of place where it stands. "Coming?" Azrael turns towards him. Dean surveys their surroundings out of instinct and habit. She opens the door with a wave of her hand. The doors are at least twelve feet tall and solid. They open as if pushed by a mere breeze. They walk into a richly appointed library. Dean notices that the brick exterior has given way to stone. He recognizes the stone, he has been here before. They pass over the inlaid compass rose. It is made of pink, white and dark marble. It is elaborate with included text in a language that he does not understand. There is a huge mahogany table placed towards the center of the room. In another part of the room, there are luxuriously appointed chairs. The rows of books seem endless. The shelves go on as far as the eye can see. There is huge skylight pointing to the heavens. Dean takes in the unusual pictures that are etched into the glass. He does not recognize the images.

"What is all of this?" Dean stands slowly circling taking it all in. Azrael watches his wonderment with fascination. "This is my library."

"Last time I was in your library, it was not in the middle of Iowa." Dean walks towards the nearest bookshelf. He surveys the volumes. Azrael has begun to have an appreciation for Dean's sarcasm. "It is always with me."

"What are these?" Dean runs his finger down the volumes taking the names both of humble origin and greatness.

"These are the days of our lives." She gives him a sarcastic grin.

"These books… they are each story of a life?" Dean touches the bindings. He is unsure if he should dare to remove it from its place upon the shelf. Azrael sees his respectful hesitation. She chooses to indulge him. "You may look at it if you would like."

Dean takes the ancient volume into his hands. The book has the scent of old leather and time. He flips through the pages taking in the words. "Do you ever read ahead?" Dean casts a curious look towards his host.

"It would make no difference if I did." Azrael walks ahead of him down the endless hallway. She can see the confusion in Dean's expression. "Why wouldn't make a difference?" Azrael walks back to him.

"You have freewill." She touches the volume in Dean's hands. "You can change the story, rewrite the ending, change your destiny… You write your own story, Dean. The book is always changing until the story is done." Azrael returns her focus to the books. She walks a few steps away from Dean into the center of the hallway. Suddenly there are numerous volumes floating in the air. The books follow Azrael back to where the table is located. She makes a motion and the books each fall to the table in a circle. Each falls in front of a chair.

As Azrael turns towards the table, they are joined by War, Sam and Castiel. Sam also recognizes the space from their last up close and personal encounter with Azrael. Castiel remembers the library well from the brief time he served Azrael. He always found such peace when he was in her library. There is something about the space that soothes his soul. He notices that the podium is still barren. Azrael's books have not yet been returned. He can only assume that Metatron possesses them.

War notices the position of the books on the table. He knows that Azrael has something that she wants to work out. He glances at the names on a couple of the bindings. Azrael motions towards a doorway that Dean does not remember being there a moment ago. "Please." Azrael guides them to the familiar surroundings of the room that they had been in before. Again there is a table laden with food and drink. "Please make yourselves comfortable. I have some business to attend to."

Dean watches her walk out of the room. Before the door closes, he sees Azrael surrounded by bluish light that swirls around her, the books open and different men manifest at the table. Dean recognizes a couple of the faces before his view is replaced by the door.

"Might as well get comfortable, she is going to be a while." War surveys the wares of the room. They are soon joined by the remaining Horsemen. Death walks up to the elegant brandy service and pours a snifter of amber liquid. He makes himself comfortable in an overstuffed chair propping his feet on the ottoman. Dean and Sam watch the Horsemen. There is something very different about their presence in this space. They don't appear frail, they appear powerful in a way that they did not in their previous encounters.

Time seems to be passing in slow motion as Dean grows restless. As he paces, he watches Sam who has fallen asleep in the chair that Death once occupied. He can't help but see the irony of that situation. The Horsemen are gathered around the table playing cards. Castiel is lost in his thoughts staring at the skylight.

With all of them distracted, Dean slips into the room with Azrael. He gently shuts the door so as not to get her attention. Fortunately Azrael is sufficiently distracted to not notice him leaning against the door.

Dean takes in the participants in Arzrael's little coffee clatch. He instantly recognizes Napoleon, George Washington, Patton, Hitler, Einstein and a few more that he does not recognize. The figures appear in a ghostlike form. They are semi-transparent. Dean notices the soft glow of the books on the table. Azrael has papers strewn everywhere along with about a half dozen empty cans of Red Bull.

Azrael is quite obviously frustrated. Her pacing ends as she tosses some papers towards the table and takes a seat in one of the upholstered chairs. She reaches for another Red Bull. Dean walks over and stops her hand. "I think you have had enough of this." He points to the dozen or so cans strewn about the table. She gently removes his hand from the can. "Have to make it a nice even Devil's dozen. Bring on the weeping angels. This stuff is freaking delicious." She pops the top and settles back into the chair.

Dean surveys the papers and the company in the room. "Strategy? Is that Genghis Khan?" Azrael nods. Dean takes a seat on the ottoman in front of Azrael. "Hitler?"

"Dean, the first country he ever invaded was his own. He did terrible things but he was also brilliant. His undoing was believing his own bullshit. I see we are back to twenty questions." Azrael visibly relaxes into the chair.

Dean gives her a look of mock contempt and attempts to speak but is interrupted by Azrael. "Don't judge Dean, I have watched you pick a fight with your own reflection."

"Why all of this?" Dean draws her attention to the table and the papers.

"Wars may be fought with weapons, but they are won by men. It is the spirit of men who follow and of the man who leads that gains the victory."


	21. I Choose You (minor update)

Azrael sits back in her chair and nudges Dean over as she props up her feet on the ottoman. She closes her eyes under Dean's intense gaze. He is drawn to Azrael like no other, it fascinates him. He cannot control it. He must be near her. She eases the burden. The only peace comes when he is near her.

It is obvious to him that Azrael is troubled. He can see the gears turning in her mind even in with her eyes closed. Azrael can hear him enter the room. She knows he is there. Her eyes pop open catching Dean off guard. Dean does not know he has joined them. She leans forward into him. Dean is unsure what to expect but her scent intoxicates him. She leans in towards his ear. Warmth radiates off of her skin enveloping him in comfort. She whispers in his ear. "Sorry, Darling." Before the words even register in his mind, she touches him on the forehead. Dean falls backward. Azrael grabs his shirt and shifts him so he is lying cross her chair asleep.

As she turns, she sees her brother as he looks down upon her charge. "You know the mark." She looks up Gabriel. "I know."

"Come on." Gabriel opens a door that reveals an alley way. Azrael takes a quick look at Dean before following him. The books on the table close as their owners fade away. Dean is peacefully unaware of anything. Azrael knows Gabriel wants to talk. True to her brother's nature, he is bending time and space for them to be alone. This is the most time they have spent together in centuries. The irony of realizing of how apart they had drifted versus what is bringing back into each other's company is not lost on her. She is going to miss this.

Gabriel and Azrael walk into a pub. He takes a small table by the fire and waves down the tavern wench. She brings two tankards and places them in front of the pair. She gives Gabriel a wink as Gabriel breaks into a huge smile."  
"One of your girls?" Azrael teases as she takes a sip.

"From a long ago time and a far away place, you figured this out?" Gabriel takes a serious tone.

"The only way to win is not to play." Azrael watches the fire. Gabriel makes himself comfortable as he watches the women.

"What have I always told you Az." He returns his gaze towards Azrael. "If you can't win …."

Azrael finshes. "Change the game. It's not that simple, Gabe." Azrael is again lost in her thoughts.

He taps Azrael on the hand. "It's all about faith, Az."

Azrael gives him a sigh and a forlorn look as she drinks down the rest of the tankard. Gabriel taps her on the hand again. "Azrael, father knew what he was doing. You are the only one of us who can pull this off. Sometimes, it is just about faith. You need to have some."

"Faith in?" She again returns her gaze towards the fire. "In me… in all of us… you know that is what he would want."

Azrael locks eyes with her brother. "Az, I will not let you down. I promise." She looks down. Her chin is raised by her brother's hand. "Forever and always Az."

She downs the new tankard that has been placed before her. She gives him a wink as she stands. "Guess I have an appointment to keep." She sets the tankard down on the table as she walks towards the door. She taps her hand to her forehead as she walks out.

The door opens to an elegantly appointed room. He sits in a chair waiting for her. He knew she would come. "Hello Darling." Crowley rises to his feet to greet Azrael. "I heard you have been making the rounds with some old friends... Ivanhoe? Really?" He admonishes her. "Vegas, Love, Monte Carlo is so much more your style... and without me... tisk... tisk."

She smiles as he takes her hand into his own and kisses it. He lingers with her hand cupped near his face. He takes in her scent while pulling her in closer to him. He leans in and kisses her neck. She returns a kiss to his cheek.

"What is troubling you, Darling?" He knows the burdens of his lover.

She smiles warmly at him. "Cara Mia, you know what you need to do."

He wraps his arms around her. "Tell me what you want from me."

"What makes you think I want something from you, Mon Cher." She pulls him into a kiss for a distraction. A distraction for both of them.

"Darling, I am a King, my kingdom is at your disposal."

"Lest you forget my love, you are only a king because I allow you to wear the crown." She pulls him into another kiss.

"Then be my queen." He again pulls her into him to kiss her neck.

"I bow before no king, even you my love." Azrael is sufficiently coy with Crowley to rouse his interest. She turns into him to continue the moment of romance. As much as she hates to admit, she has missed her adventures with Crowley. He is her little misfit. How the hell did things go so amiss as to make her playmate the King of Hell.

She knows what she needs to do. Faith, Gabriel tells her, have faith. They are words so easily uttered not so easily executed. She is lost in Crowley's affections. Knowing what is right and having it be the right thing to do are not always the same thing. She again indulges Crowley's affections for hours. She needs him more than even he realizes.

At last the time has come for her to leave him, She again gently kisses him on the lips as she leaves him blissfully unaware of her departure. She returns to her realm.

She opens the door and walks back into her library. Dean awakens at her arrival. He notices her rather disheveled appearance. He knows this look. He walks up to her touching her face and her neck. "Where have you have been…." She silences him with a finger to his lips. His tone bears the jealously of a scorned lover and she does not have time for that.

"Do not assume to know my business, Mr. Winchester." She taps him on the nose as she returns to her books.


	22. All About Soul

Dean grabs Azrael by the arm as she turns away from him. "And quit knocking me out." Azrael can see into Dean's heart. He is terrified of the lack of control that he has over himself. If it isn't the blade burning within him, it is Azrael controlling him. For all of the power he feels, he feels equally helpless.

Gabriel had reminded Azrael of the part of all of this that disturbs her the most. Cain and Able, she knows the story and she knows the obligation. She also knows that Dean does not. All she can do is protect him and try to figure it out after she takes care of Metatron. The only way to protect him is to indulge his deepest desire. There is something about Dean that touches Azrael. He reminds her of her brothers… he also reminds her of Crowley in a simpler time.

She leans in and touches his face. Dean places his hand over hers as he pulls her towards him. He holds her against him for several moments. She whispers. "I'm sorry." As they stand locked in each other's arms, Sam enters the room. He is caught off guard, seeing them entangled in what he construes to be a lover's embrace.

"Am I interrupting something?" Sam is concerned for his brother. The affect that Azrael has on him is profound. He notices Azrael's disheveled appearance. His assumption is that getting that way proceeded what he just walked in on. He would tell Dean that they don't have time for him to get it on with the angelic realm.

Dean takes a moment and walks into the other room. Sam grabs Azrael by the arm. He grabs her a bit harder than he intended. "What are you doing to him?" He holds her firmly within his grasp. Azrael realizes that Sam's actions are driven out of love and concern for his brother. "I am protecting him."

"You are seducing him so he will do your bidding." Azrael shoots him a look as she takes his hand and removes it from her arm. "I am not seducing your brother." Sam waves his hands indicating her appearance. She gives him a curious look.

"Sex? You think the only thing he responds to is sex?" Sam's voice is roaring from body. Azrael finds his question amusing. "Sex… you think this is about sex?" Azrael can't help but laugh. "What am I a clown… do I amuse you?"

Azrael's laugh turns into a warm smile at the movie quote. "Sam." Azrael gently touches Sam's face. "I am protecting him with the only thing that he responds to. Believe it or not… I do not require your services to defeat my brother. My power is the ability to provide the opposing force, the counter balance. The only force that can balance the rage within Dean is to grant him his heart's desire." Sam takes in Azrael's words. "His heart's desire…"

Azrael finishes the sentence for him. "Is not sex… it is to be…" Sam looks up into her eyes as the answer becomes clear. "Is to be loved." Azrael nods in affirmation.

"Unconditional love… It is that simple, Sam." Azrael waves her hand and the books on the table rise and head towards the shelves. Azrael walks passed him into the room with the others.

Sam watches Azrael as she walks to the table with her boys. She sits down as Death pours her a brandy. Dean is with Castiel having an intense conversation out of earshot of the others.

Sam watches the exchange between Dean and Castiel with deep interest. Dean is very animated in this exchange. The emotions displayed run the gambit. Sam's instincts tell him that things are coming to a head. There is a change in the winds. He knows Azrael is the key to everything. As much as he wants to trust Azrael, he doesn't. He knows there is so much that Azrael is not sharing. He cannot help but know that his own future is tied to this creature and he doesn't like it.


	23. Game of Shadows

Azrael exits the moment for the briefs of moments. She returns dressed in the clothes of the turn of the century. Her dress is dark burgundy with elaborate jet trimmings. Her hair is suddenly long done up in a lovely chignon complimented with a hat and veil. She is elegant and refined. She no longer even resembles the woman who stood before them a moment ago.

She startles them with the sudden change. She looks like something from a fairy tale. She renders them speechless. Azrael has always been one to appreciate a good entrance. "Come my darlings."

With a flick of her fingers their attire alters to that befitting the time their soon to be travels. They each look at each other with the typical awe struck look of the power of this realm. Her Horsemen seem to stand at attention in her presence.

"Isn't this a little excessive?" War motions towards her attire. She gives him a warm smile.

"It is so overt that it is covert besides, this time I left out the tiara." She gives him a wink.

"Have fun storming the castle." Death reaches for the door. "Kiss my tiara, D."

Sam and Dean fuss with their new attire. Castiel is quite fond of it. "Gentlemen", she loops her arm through Castiel's. "Shall we." Death opens the door to reveal an extravagant room. The room quickly reveals to be a train station. "Come along." Azrael directs them towards a coach.

As Sam takes in the passing scenery , he can surmise that they must be in the late 19th/ early 20th century and that they are somewhere in Europe. "Azrael, where are we?" Sam strikes up conversation. "or when are we?" Dean adjusts his tie as he also stares out the window. Azrael bats his hand away. "We are outside of London. It is 1891." Azrael opens a fan and gently begins to fan herself. Dean sits back and takes in the wafting scent of Azrael mixed with coal smoke and time.

As they reach the station in Londo, the porter opens the door. "Mind your step." After descending from the train, Azrael turns toward the trio. "Castiel, will you be a dear and escort me." Castiel walks up and again offers his arm. "Time for tea." She turns towards Dean and Sam. "Stop fussing and put on your hats. You are gentlemen, Darlings."

They walk from the station and through the streets of London to a grand hotel. Azrael seems to know exactly where they are going and is very at ease in their surroundings. They are escorted to a table which is elaborately appointed with china and crystal. Azrael guides Sam and Dean by example through the ritual of an English high tea. As they watch and observe it becomes clear that Azrael seems to be waiting for someone.

Dean surveys the room when Azrael starts an unexpected conversation. "How are your brawling skills?" Dean sips the tea before answering. "Brawling skills?"

"Brawling skills? Dean is trying to act as if this absurd situation is normal. "Street fighting, how are you at street fighting."

"We can handle ourselves." Sam hops into the conversation.

"Good, you are going to need them… but listen to me carefully… very carefully." She centers on Dean. "Contain, defend,… do not … I repeat, do not kill anyone." She again centers on Dean. "Anyone. Savvy?"

Dean taps his forehead in acknowledgement as a very elegantly dressed man approaches the table. They stand as Azrael remains seated in greeting. The gentleman is familiar but none of them can place him. Azrael seems to know exactly who he is.

"Azrael." Azrael offers her hand. "John." He kisses her hand. "He offers his apologies but suggested the Savory at 8."

"Perfect, see you then." Azrael confirms his request. He kisses her hand again. "It is pleasure to see you again, Azrael."

"Who was that?" Castiel is curious. He is very familiar. He knows the face it is familiar the mustache is throwing him off. The voice is also familiar. Is unsure if this is a man or something from his own realm. Azrael is displaying no alarm and no fear so it is not a threat.

"Come gents, looks like we have a bit of time to kill."

Azrael guides them to the hotel where they will mind their time until the evening. Luggage and all of the appropriate style and quantity have suddenly appeared so as not to raise alarm. In the name of the prudence of the age, Azrael has an adjoining room.

The boys have discovered that though this is fascinating, they have no desire to remain here. There is something to be said for creature comforts. Azrael has provided them with clothing appropriate to the evening plans. She appears in the doorway in the dress of a refined lady of the times with some rather extravagant diamond and sapphire jewelry.

"Come along." She again takes Castiel's arm as they exit the room.

As they enter the hotel, they are greeted as expected guests. "Good Evening, Madame, your party has already arrived. This way please." They are guided to another elaborately appointed table with two seated gentlemen. The gentlemen rise as Azrael approaches the table.

The one is the familiar gentleman that they had seen in the afternoon, the other is equally familiar but unknown to them. He rises and kisses Azrael's hand as her chair is pulled out for her. The rest of the introductions are made. Their company is none other Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson.

Sam looks at Dean. "You have got to be freaking kidding me? Aren't they fictional?"

Castiel sees the odd twinkle in Azrael's eyes, a twinkle like that of a shared secret or an inside joke. Something is not what it seems.


	24. Dark Horses

The dinner proceeds at a surprisingly uneventful pace which disturbs both Sam and Dean. The conversation is general and rather uninteresting until the after dinner drinks begin. Watson offers the boys some entertainment in the form of a trip to a brothel. Things just got interesting.

"I will escort this lovely creature back to the hotel and I will join you chaps in a jiff." Holmes offers a hand to Azrael. Azrael shakes a knowing finger at the trio as she takes Holmes' arm. They separate at the door of the Savoy. The brothel bound foursome take the first carriage as Holmes provides for a second.

"Do you think they are going to know what to do?" Holmes settles into the carriage next to Azrael.

"Shirley, I am counting on it." Holmes gives Azrael a sly smile at the same that only his brother calls him. "Shall we go see about a wayward Time Lord." Azrael gives Holmes a wink.

The brothel is everything the boys could have expected. Watson guides them to the bar for a few drinks before they indulge his gambling habit. Sam notices how ill at ease Castiel seems to be.

"You okay, Cass?" Sam pulls him in for an intimate conversation.

Castiel glances around the room before answering. "Usually when an angel walks into a brothel…" He hesitates for a moment. "All hell breaks loose."

Sam laughs at Castiel's joke until he realizes that Cass is not joking.

They settle into a table and libations. Watson turns out to be great company as he spins tales of war that Dean quite ironically relates to. As Dean surveys the room and the various ladies in waiting, he sees him. The reason why they are here is a few feet away. Gavin is at the table playing cards like he owns the place.

Dean goes to get up but is stopped by Watson. "That is not how it is done here, Mr. Winchester." Dean almost turns to whack Watson out of pure instinct. "We will take his money first. Come, gents, time to play a few hands." Watson gets up and heads towards a table with Dean, Sam and Castiel.

Watson buys into the game taking a seat across from the Prince of Hell. Gavin has adapted to his new life quite well from the looks of him. Dean casts his eyes around the room searching for the Time Lord that Azrael had sent to keep tabs on Gavin. The only issue is that Dean has no idea what a Time Lord should look like.

Watson continues to play for hours and continues to dwindle down the other player's resources including Gavin's. As Watson collects another rather large pot, words are exchanged between several players. Words rapidly descend into fisticuffs. Dean is impressed with how Watson handles himself during the fight. Just as Dean is about to grab Gavin, he is handcuffed. Gavin gives him a wicked little grin as he pops away and out a side door. As Dean tries to resist, he is clubbed on the back of the head by the officer.

Dean wakes with a freight train in his head. They are in what appears to be an open air cell. Dean is sprawled out on a bench along with Sam and the others. The smell is retched. Dean's eyes open as slits to take in the scene. All of them are disheveled and dirty. Dean wakes up with his legs draped over Sam. Castiel is on a nearby bench with Watson sitting on the ground in front of him.

A policeman walks up to them. "Eh, you four, your bail 'as been posted. Move along… move along." The four look up to see that their benefactor is none other than Azrael and she does not look happy.

"You look like hell, Darlings." Azrael looks of the lot of them. Simultaneously, they answer her. "You should see the other guy."

"I send you to keep tabs on a 18th century simpleton and you end up in the brig." Watson shrugs at Azrael's remark. "Come on, plan B."

Dean looks over Azrael. "Plan B?"

"Momma always has a back track." She waves them forward into a carriage.

She waves her hand and the evening of fisticuffs dissolves from their faces and their clothes morph into rather unusual attire. Distracted by a glance down, they miss the transformation of Azrael into a gypsy princess. The carriage stops and they are met by men in similar attire with horses.

As they exit, Castiel realizes that they are no longer in England, they are in France. The men approach Azrael. They speak to her as if she is a prodigal daughter returned. "They with you?" Azrael nods. Each is outfitted with a strong horse. Dean goes to speak but is hushed by Castiel. "Not now." Dean gets the impression that Castiel may be familiar with their new companions. Watson seems ill at ease but seems to have his mind to put rest when Azrael turns to him. "One more time under the bridge?" He smiles at her as she turns and takes off on the horse.

They others follow Azrael through the forest at high speed. They ride for a long while until it is time to make camp. Dean and Sam did not take Azrael as the "outdoorsy" type but she seems right at home by the evening fire. She has been unusually quiet but no one had dare question her motivations.

Dean finds solace in the night by the fire. It reminds him of when he and Sam we boys. It has been a hell of an adventure since they were young. He could have never imagined a life like they have had. He had never realized that his whole life was making him a hunter by design.

They rise in the morning to continue their journey. At the end of the second day's ride, they come upon an encampment of rather unique people. They cannot help but notice the reaction to Azrael's entrance. There is a heady mix of jubilation and fear. The gathering crowd parts as Azrael dismounts her horse. A young boy takes the reigns of her horse as she touches him on the head. She approaches an incredibly large man who wraps Azrael in a bear hug lifting her off of the ground. The silence among their party leaves them all ill at ease.

"About time you got here. Lolly gagging all willy nilly about the borders." All recognize the voice as that of Sherlock Holmes.

"It would seem that our boys are not as adept at street fighting as one would have expected." Azrael takes off her gloves as she enters a tent. The large man places a hand squarely on Watson's chest.

"They are with us, Marcel." Sherlock assures the giant that they are friendly little foes.

The atmosphere of the tent is almost Persian. There are tapestries and rich women materials scattered about. There is a fire burning in the center of room which casts a warm glow over the surroundings. The room smells of incense and exotic spices. There is an ancient woman seated next to Sherlock. Across from him is another gentleman dressed in the telltale steampunk regalia of a Time Lord.

Azrael casts a critical eye over the gentleman. "I made one request of you Nigel." She takes her gloves and tucks them into a leather satchel that none realized Azrael had upon her person.

"Az, what can I say, he is a slippery little sucker." She sniffs the air around him.

"Nigel, he is a simpleton not a salamander." She turns away from him with a wink to the old woman. "Damara, where shall I find my wayward Prince?"

The old woman pulls out a deck of ancient Tarot cards. An attending man provides a chair for Azrael and offers tea to all. Azrael graciously accepts the tea prompting the others to follow her lead.

"Thank you, Bavol." She takes the fine china cup from the tray he presents.

The woman shows Azrael two cards; the fool and death. Azrael exchanges a knowing smile with the old woman. Azrael's expression is soft as she reaches out and touches the old woman's hand. The woman motions for Azrael to hand her the cup. Azrael finishes the remaining tea in a single swallow, handing over the cup.

The woman looks over the leaves holding them to the candle. She takes another card from the deck. The card is Temperance. Azrael touches the card and gives the woman another warm smile and an undeniable nod of acknowledgement. The woman then points to Dean. Azrael motions for him to finish the tea in his cup. Bavol takes the cup from Dean and hands it to Damara. Azrael watches her closely.

Damara lays out the Hanged Man card on the table before Azrael. Dean watches intently but does understand the unspoken conversation that is occurring between Damara and Azrael. She turns another card and taps it. She taps upon the Devil's card. She takes the card and reverses it before Azrael on the table exchanging an intense gaze with Azrael. Azrael glances towards Dean. Dean cannot read the look in her eyes. Before he can react, Azrael leans forward and embraces the old woman. She takes the woman's face into her hands. The reverence that the woman pays Azrael is profound. Sherlock stands at the prompting of Azrael's exchange with the woman. The others also rise. Azrael moves towards Bavol and embraces him as well. During this entire exchange, Sam has noticed the change in Nigel's expression. He is watching Dean with a growing intensity.

As Azrael moves to leave the old woman grabs Azrael's arm. Azrael turns back towards her as the woman places another card in her hand. The card is the Star. She takes it from a reversed position and turns it right. She takes Azrael's hand and places a kiss in her palm.

Azrael lowers her eyes with a reverent nod. The woman releases Azrael's hand. "Shall we." Sherlock breaks the silence as he motions all to the door.

"Bavol, will you return them for me?" Azrael finally speaks as they exit the tent. "Of course, Azrael." Azrael motions towards Watson and Sherlock. "Borders are such tricky things." She winks at Bavol.

"Nigel, I expect that you will find my wayward Prince and return him to me?" Nigel lowers his eyes in disgrace. "Yes, Az. I will find him."

Azrael walks up to Sherlock. "Until next time?" She extends her hand towards him. Sherlock loving takes her hand into his own placing a romantic kiss upon it. "I look forward to the next time parting is such sweet sorrow, Darling."

As they mount their horses, Dean steals Azrael's ear for a moment. "You have a lot of Darlings, my dear." Azrael shoots Dean a coy glance. "Well my darling… it isn't always who you know. It is often how you know them." Her breathless delivery of that statement teases Dean to his core.

They ride off into a distant fog. As the fog clears, they realize that they have been effortlessly transported back to castle. The horses dissipate upon their dismount. As the door is opened, they realize that they have returned to their bunker. After they enter, Sam's curiosity gets the better of him. He opens the door again to realize it was a closet.


	25. Battleground

Azrael sits at the table with her gaze locked on Dean. Sam eyes are locked on Azrael. Dean and Castiel are checking on some details of the ever changing landscape since Metatron's self-proclaimed introduction to humanity. The Youtube videos have gone viral.

Sam is genuinely creeped out by Azrael's fixation. Azrael actually startles Sam by suddenly getting up and walking into the kitchen. For an inexplicable reason, Dean suddenly gets up and follows her. Azrael is pacing in the kitchen like a cat on a hot tin roof and that is very unlike the Azrael that they have come to know. Castiel and Sam follow but hang just outside the threshold.

"Az, what is it." Dean is startled by her appearance. There is suddenly blood like tears running from her eyes like that had scene when Gadreel died. Azrael grabs Dean's arms.

"Promise me that you will not follow." There is an edge to her voice that they had not previously heard.

"Az, what in the hell is going on." Dean braces his own arms against hers. "Az!" He commands Azrael's attention from a glance towards the threshold.

"Promise me." The edge in her voice is now tinged with desperation.

"You are not going after him alone." Dean's booms throughout the room.

"This is not your fight." Azrael's voice radiates power and authority back at Dean.

"You are not going alone." She knows how stubborn he is. Couple that trait with the Mark of Cain and it is a lethal combination. Azrael knows this is a fight she will not win, at least not now. She surprises him and pulls Dean into a deep kiss. Dean pulls her into him and holds her solidly within his grasp. He is not going to allow Azrael to distract him even if it is in the form of protection.

"What was that for?" He is still deeply disturbed by the blood running from Azrael's eyes.

"That was for me." Azrael turns towards the doorway as she reaches up and caresses Dean's face.

"Castiel." Azrael beckons them from the threshold of the room. Castiel and Sam enter. Casteil recognizes the look of Azrael. She has become the weeping angel. The time of reckoning is upon them. Azrael breaks Dean's hold with a glance. She removes her ring and hands it to Castiel.

"You know what I ask of you." Castiel instantly drops to a position of reverence before the weeping angel. With their attention momentarily lost on Castiel, they do not see Azrael vaporize in the room.

Dean furiously looks for her. "Damn it where the hell did she go, Cass?"

Castiel holds the ring in his hands. He knows what Azrael is requesting. He must leave them now.

He places the ring on his finger. Sam is well aware of what the ring is. It is the ring of the Horsemen. It is the ring of Azrael. She just made Castiel the gatekeeper of Lucifer's Cage. Sam tries to get the words out but his are drowned out by Castiel.

"Sam, whatever you do. Do not follow. I beg of you. Please do not follow. Dean… Please my brother do not follow Azrael and do not follow me."

"Cass, do you think for one damn minute that I am going to allow you to open that cage? We sought out the blade to kill him and I am going to kill Metatron."

Castiel places the ringed hand upon Dean's shoulders. Dean can see the look in Castiel's eyes. "Dean, this is not your fight. This is not the fight of a hunter. This is our fight." Castiel knows that his words are not penetrating the rage within Dean. He also knows that he has to go and go now.

"Sam.. please." Castiel embraces Sam for the briefest of moments before opening the door and evaporating like Azrael.

They are not gone more than a minute before Dean is preparing to leave.  
"Dean, this is not our fight."

"Sam, this is my fight. For what that bastard did to Kevin. This sure as hell is my fight." Dean continues to gather his tools. Sam is desperate to stop him. He heard Azrael's voice. He heard the change. That was not a request it was a command.

Sam' pleads with Dean but he can see the fixation within Dean. If he can't stop him, he is sure as hell going to go with him. They are now hot on the trail of Metatron. Sam is hoping beyond hope that Azrael gets to Metatron first.

Castiel appears in the darkness before them. Michael instantly recognizes the sound of an angel in their midst. He can see Azrael's ring on his finger.

He stands before the cage gaining the undivided attention of Lucifer and Michael.

"Azrael has sent you." Castiel nods in recognition.

"It has begun." Lucifer's voice is clear and neutral.

"Release us, my brother." Michael makes the request of Castiel. Castiel moves forward but stops sensing a presence behind him.

"Before you do that Cass, Let me have a word with my brothers." A voice comes out of the darkness. The voice instantly has the full and complete attention of Lucifer.

"Gabriel? Is that you? Is this some sort of cruel trickery, Castiel."

Lucifer strains to focus on the men in front of his cage. He cannot believe what he sees before him. He wonders if this is some kind of trick or illusion.

"It is I, my brother." Gabriel steps from the darkness into the light. Lucifer is stunned at the sight of Gabriel. He took Gabriel's life force with his own two hands. The image of his brother lying dead before him has haunted his mind since. He is convinced this must be smoke and mirrors but by who?

"She is going to do this?" Lucifer leans against the bars of the cage. He will play this game.

"Yes." Gabriel maintains a position of neutrality acknowledging the shock that Lucifer is registering. "She is the only one who can but you know what she asks of us in return." Michael feels the presence of his true brother but how? How did Gabriel resurrect? Could Azrael's plan be so stunningly simple? Why did she send Castiel? Why did she not come to release them herself?

The trio exchange knowing looks. "Do we understand each other?" Lucifer and Michael understand what needs to happen as Gabriel tells them the tale of their younger brother's misadventures. They know what Azrael is requesting. They know there is a price for all things.

"Release the Kracken, Castiel." Castiel is shocked to see Gabriel alive but right now shock and awe is the new normal. He waves his ringed finger across the doors of the cage. The latches instantly disengage and the door opens.

"'ello beasties'." Gabriel leads them into the darkness.


	26. Odds Are

Azrael walks into the cemetery allowing the darkness and silence to envelop her. She walks among the ancient graves. She walks in and out of the rows occasionally running her fingers over the stone of an old friend. She stops at her destination.

She runs her fingers over the plaque followed by a gentle knock on the plaster. Azrael mumbles some words in French. She takes a seat against a nearby grave. She pulls out a pipe and begins to pack it with tobacco. As the smell of the pipe smoke fills the air, Azrael is joined by an old friend. Azrael puffs on the pipe for a few moments before placing it into the woman's outstretched hand.

"Azrael, I should have known. You look like hell." Marie Laveau takes a seat next to Azrael. "It is a cold night." Azrael produces a fine bottle of brandy. "That's my girl."

Marie uncorks the brandy and takes a long drag off the bottle. "Ah… now that hits the spot, child." She puts the pipe back into her mouth. "So child, am I to assume from the weeping angel look about you, you have come to call on your wayward brother?"

Azrael takes a long drag off the brandy bottle before she answers. "Shall we?" Marie gives her a wicked little smile. "You were always the fun one, my dear Azrael."

Azrael takes another long drag from the bottle. She corks it and hands it to Marie. "Child, that is the nectar." Marie hands Azrael a key. "Wish there was more of that." Azrael laughs and points. Another bottle has appeared in front of Marie's grave. "It is a fine evening for a good pipe"

"Front pocket." Marie touches her front pocket to find a pouch of fine tobacco and a zippo. Before she walks away, Azrael leans down and draws and "X" with a circle around it. "Until, next time." Azrael smiles and taps her forehead.

"You take care of yourself out among the unbelievers, Azrael." Marie settles into her seat for an enjoyable evening.

Azrael walks to the back of the cemetery using the key to unlock the gate to a crypt. She can feel the presence. "Hello Princess, where is your daddy? Lurking in the shadows?" She can hear the hell hound behind her.

Crowley appears upon the sound of her words. "Thought I might find you here." Crowley moves closer to her reaching to caress the blood trail on Azrael's face.

Azrael turns and leans against the tomb. Crowley loves the intensity in Azrael's eyes. She radiates the power that is now within her. He knows it has begun and nothing from this moment forward will be the same. He places a kiss on her lips. He rests his head upon hers for a brief moment. As he separates from her he taps her on the nose. He crosses the threshold of the tomb into the yard as rays of white light emerge from every opening of the crypt.

Azrael appears in the warehouse as Metatron plunges the angel blade into Dean. Azrael can barely contain her fury at her brother. Azrael rushes to his side as Metatron leaves him to die. "Why could you not listen to me?" She holds Dean in her arms for a moment caressing his face. She can hear Sam approach. She knows she has to leave him. She kisses him on his forehead. She must contend with her brother. She is hoping the kiss is enough to sustain Dean just long enough for her to return him. She is unable to heal him in her current state. The whispers in her head are now a deafening roar. She must leave and she must leave him now. It is time.

As she leaves she can see Sam rush to his brother's side. The pain in Sam's heart at the sight of Dean strikes Azrael like a thunderbolt. She will return to him.

Azrael enters a long hallway. As, she walks down the hall, Azrael is transformed. Her light hair becomes black as pitch… her clothes transform into a flowing black dress. Her blood streaked face becomes masked with a lacelike design surrounding her eyes. Upon her arms are jeweled armaments, at her side is a sword. Her black wings unfurl as she enters what will become her arena. She stands before her brother.

"Full on Hell's Angel… It has been a long time since you pulled out the wings, Azarael." Metatron's tone is mocking as the angels begin to gather around them. Azrael does not speak but remains steadfast.

While Azrael distracts Metatron, Castiel is in Metatron's study searching for the angel tablet. He knows it is here. He knows he must find it and he must find it now.

Metatron circles his silent sister. "You cannot defeat me Azrael. This is a nice show but it is all smoke and mirrors dear sister." Azrael waits for Metatron to come closer. More and more angels gather to watch the siblings. Azrael moves away from Metatron so that the wall is now behind her. The angels must gather in front of her. Metatron moves still closer leaning against the wall. He runs his finger down her sword. "It's a good look for you but you know he is dead already, dear one. Another you were too late to save. I think you just lost your most valuable piece."

Azrael speaks for the first time. "But a winning strategy sometimes necessitates sacrifice."

"Chess… very nice, Azrael. Well check my dear one… check."

Azrael makes a sudden move grabbing Metatron and holding an angel blade to him. "Very dramatic, lest you forget that you cannot kill me. We are two sides of one coin. We could battle to the end of time."

The crowds before the pair part as a second Azrael walks towards the pair. "Bishop to bishop eight, discovered check...and (incidentally) mate, brother. That is how chess is played." The Azrael behind Metatron morphs back to the form of Gabriel. The expression on Metatron's face is of total shock.

"She may not be able to kill you… but I sure as hell can dear brother." Gabriel's voice is menacing as he speaks.

Azrael can feel the angel tablet shatter. Castiel has kept his word. "The two of you cannot undo what I have done." Metatron tosses another threat in their direction.

Azrael paces in front of Metatron. "Perhaps not but…" Azrael is interrupted by the approach of her remaining brothers. "But the four of us can." Metatron is now faced with Raphael, Michael and Lucifer.

The room erupts into white light as both heaven and hell are restored.

Crowley sits at a table in a small pub. He knows it has happened. It is time for him to go.

Sam sits at the table in the bunker with a bottle of whiskey before him trying to numb the loneliness and the pain. He as hoped that this is just a dream… or a nightmare. Dean has been laid out on his bed. Sam begins to contemplate the unthinkable.

Crowley joins Dean at his bedside taking a position in the chair next to the bed. He can feel Sam's desperation and pain as he speaks to Dean.

"Your brother, bless his soul, is summoning me, as I speak. Make a deal. Bring you back. It's exactly what I was talking about, isn't it? It's all become so…expected. You have to believe me. When I suggested you take on the Mark of Cain, I didn't know that this was going to happen. Not really. I mean, I might not have told you the entire truth. But I never lied. I never lied, Dean. That's important. It's fundamental. But…there is one story about Cain that I might have…forgotten to tell you. Apparently, he, too, was willing to accept death rather than become the killer the Mark wanted him to be. So he took his own life with the Blade. He died. Except, as rumor has it, the Mark never quite let go, you can understand why I never spoke of this. Why set hearts aflutter at mere speculation? It wasn't until you summoned me… no it wasn't truly until you left that cheeseburger uneaten, that I began to let myself believe maybe miracles do come true. Listen to me, Dean Winchester. What you're feeling right now — it's not death. It's life — a new kind of life. Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see. Feel what I feel. And let's go take a howl at that moon."

Crowley is lost in the moment with his new protégé. He does not see Azrael in the shadows. Azrael will contend with him but first… she needs to contend with Sam.


End file.
